


Dying for a Dream

by JamieJam93



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction, louis tomlinson/harry styles - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anorexia Nervosa, Doniya and Zayn are twins because I said so, F/M, I didn't rate it because I have no idea but just read these tags, I may think of more later but my brain is dead so sorry, Insecure Louis, M/M, Recreational drug use (briefly mentioned), Suicidal Thoughts, Triggers, Underage Drinking, child abuse (it's not severe and it's just mentioned but it's there), self-harm (cutting)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:51:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 41,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieJam93/pseuds/JamieJam93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>14-year-old Louis has a fantasy world in his head; one where he and 15-year-old, popular kid Harry Styles are in love. Although he knows the likelihood of his dream world becoming a reality is slim, he finds himself on a dangerous path, trying to get the boy he's been head-over-heels for since he first laid eyes on him to fall in love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so....this is my first fanfiction, so I'm nervous.  
> Actually, it's the first thing I've written (not including school crap) ever. So...  
> A couple of my friends requested a fic based on the song "Dear Diary" by Mikelwj, and then this somehow happened. It is in two parts, just like the song.  
> As a disclaimer, I do not know anyone from One Direction and I do not claim that this is anything but fiction. I do not own the boys or their families and I don't make profit off of this. I do not wish to either. So that's that.  
> Lastly, this could possibly be a triggering story. If you think it it going to trigger something harmful in you, DO NOT read it. If you do, and it does, and you need someone to talk to, my e-mail address can be found on my profile. I don't have any other social media, sorry. And remember, nothing and no one is worth hurting yourself for <3

_Dear diary,_

_Okay, so I’ve never really done this before and I don’t really know why I’m starting now. I guess it’s just because things are really starting to fall apart and if something ever happens to me, I want someone to understand. I need someone to understand._

 

            Re-reading his first and, so far, only diary entry, Louis feared it was a bit too melodramatic. He knew his life wasn’t fantastic, but it could be worse.

            At fourteen, Louis knew most people would tell him he had nothing to complain about in the first place. He didn’t know real pain, his mother had told him when she first found out about the cuts and scars Louis had marked into his own skin. There were kids who had no parents, kids who were beaten every day, kids who went to bed hungry because their parents couldn’t afford food, or just because they wanted to spend their money on other things.

            Louis knew she was right. His dad hadn’t been around for the past seven or so years, but based on the experiences Louis had had with him when he did occasionally pick up Louis for the holidays or his birthday, Louis knew that was a good thing. He still had his mom, and she was a good mother, she really was. She wasn’t home a lot, but as a single mom who worked as a nurse, she had crazy hours at the hospital. Of course, Louis thought she could probably cut at least one shift a week if she didn’t drink so much, but he didn’t say anything. He’d learned his lesson the first time he mentioned limiting the booze and she’d hit him harder than she’d ever hit him in his life.

        Now, Louis’s mom didn’t hit him _a lot_. Just sometimes when she’d already had a bad day and the alcohol fueled her anger and sadness more. Plus, Louis deserved it. He had trouble keeping his mouth shut about a lot of things, and he never really showed how grateful he was for her. He thought he did, but she didn’t agree, so apparently, he was more selfish than he thought.

            So that was Louis’s home life. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t terrible.

            His school life was about average as well. He wasn’t popular, but he wasn’t a bully target either. He’d had his fair share of boyfriends and girlfriends, though they never lasted long. The boys would typically leave after they got what they wanted from him and the girls would stick around until something better came along. The problem was, almost everyone was better than Louis.

            Louis knew he was young, and maybe just going through an awkward phase, but he feared the ‘phase’ was going to last forever. His voice was abnormally high, even though it had changed quite a bit the past year, and he was short and chubby, having not reached his growth spurt yet. When he voiced the insecurities, his mom would say he wasn’t chubby, just healthy, his girlfriends would say he was fine and whatever boy was trying to get into his pants would tell him he was ‘curvy.’ That was the worst. ‘Curvy’ was such a feminine word…

            Not that there was anything wrong with being feminine, of course, but as a teenage boy, Louis didn’t really want to be defined as that. Secretly, he was jealous of all the beautiful girls he saw on television and in magazines. He wanted flawless skin. He wanted a slim, toned body. He wanted to be able to wear make-up without being shoved into a locker. But he couldn’t, so he was stuck being his flawed, never good enough self.

            He hadn’t understood at first why everyone, including himself, expected him to be perfect. Perfection didn’t exist. Even the beautiful people in the media that he admired so much had to be touched up a little bit.

            Then he met Harry Styles.

            Well, he didn’t really ‘meet’ Harry. The two had a couple elective classes together, but they’d never actually talked. Louis was quite certain Harry didn’t even know he existed. Harry was a year ahead, and he _was_ one of the popular kids. And he was perfect. Suddenly, Louis understood. He wasn’t just flawed. He was maybe a one out of ten, ten being Harry Styles, who Louis was madly in love with. Or maybe it was just a crush, but whatever it was, it was the most intense feeling Louis had ever had.

            Nothing was going to happen, of course. Even if Harry did know of Louis, he was so far out of the younger guy’s league. Louis wouldn’t be fit to shine his shoes.

            None of that stopped Louis from dreaming, though. In the fantasy world he’d created in his head, it was only a matter of time before Harry would lock eyes with Louis and fall madly in love with him right away. Suddenly, Louis’s not-so-great-but-not-too-terrible life would be perfect just like Harry. Just like how Harry would see him.

            It took a while for Louis to realize that dreams didn’t come true unless you worked on them, and he had a lot of work to do if he or his life were ever to be perfect. He needed to better himself.

            There were many things Louis needed to improve on, he knew, but he decided to start with the worst; his body. If Harry was going to notice him and not be repulsed, then Louis needed to lose his horrendous excess fat.

            That was why he skipped dinner the first time. And then he skipped breakfast the next morning, as he felt a little sick. Suddenly, he found himself glad his mom was rarely around. It would make this whole thing a lot easier. Of course, she probably wouldn’t actually care. Louis was just on a diet. Diets were healthy.

            He stuck to that mentality even as he skipped every other meal that day and his stomach went from growling ridiculously to giving small stabs of pain.

            The second morning after starting his diet, Louis woke up dizzy and decided to drink a cup of tea, allowing himself one orange to go with it. He felt way too full afterwards and kind of wanted to throw up, but didn’t. Diets did not include vomiting. He knew that.

            “Why aren’t you eating anything, Lou?”

            Though it was lunch time, Louis was still full from breakfast, but he decided to go and sit with his friends anyway. Niall and Liam were really the only true friends Louis had, but he wouldn’t trade them for the world. He’d known Liam since before his first birthday, so as long as he could remember. They’d been step brothers for a while, when Louis’s mom had been married to Liam’s dad, and though their parents divorced when the children were six, they were still pretty much brothers. Liam and Louis had even run away together back when their parents separated, convinced they would be homeless before Geoff would take Liam away.

            They’d gotten hungry and went home three hours later, and their parents hadn’t even realized they’d been gone yet, but it was still a good story, they supposed.

            Niall had joined their small group just two years ago. He’d been sent to live with Geoff and Liam for a few months after being busted smoking pot in his school’s bathroom. He was the son of Geoff’s ex-girlfriend, who he was still close with despite the fact that she lived in Ireland, and the three boys speculated sometimes that Niall was actually Geoff’s son, though when they mentioned it to the man, he accused them all of getting high and refused to say any more of it. Whether they were right or not, Niall soon became their brother too, and both his academics and mood improved so much in England that his mom moved back so he could stay with his friends and keep succeeding. (Also, probably because she and Geoff rekindled their romance, but that was another story.)

            It had been Niall to speak up, asking Louis the question Louis had hoped to avoid, but the boy answered simply, “Not hungry.”

            “But you didn’t eat yesterday either,” he said like it was a mortal sin. Louis rolled his eyes, small smile on his face hopefully hiding his panic.

            “Not everyone eats as much as you, Niall.”

            “ _No one_ eats as much as you,” Liam corrected. Niall laughed and grinned like he’d just received the highest of compliments, and with that, the subject was dropped. Louis had to remind himself that that was a good thing. He didn’t want them to worry. They didn’t _need_ to worry. He was fine.

 

_Dear diary,_

_5 pounds, he might notice me_

_10, he might say hi_

_15 and we may even have a conversation_

_20, he might be my guy_


	2. Chapter 2

            Despite assuring himself that he was fine at lunch, Louis had vowed to never eat again. He’d felt awful after the orange he’d had for breakfast and couldn’t imagine ever torturing his stomach that way again.

            Of course, Louis knew that never eating again wasn’t actually a possibility, but that’s what he had to tell himself to smother the guilt he felt a little bit. He did manage to avoid food the rest of the day, at least, even though his full feeling did fade soon and his stomach was growling before school even let out.

            The hunger was clawing viciously at his stomach when he woke up the next morning and, going to the bathroom and stripping his clothes, Louis stepped on the scale, deciding he’d allow himself half a bagel if he’d reached his first goal of five pounds.

            When the scale flashed the angry red numbers up at him, tears stung Louis’s eyes. Three pounds. He’d only lost three pounds. He knew it had only been a few days since he’d started his diet, but he’d been working so hard and was so hungry. Someone who was this hungry shouldn’t weigh that much.

            Louis stared down at the scale, angry tears still sliding down his cheeks until the enormous number that had been staring back finally faded, reflecting up nothing but a blank screen.

            Taking a deep breath, Louis stepped off the scale and into the shower, rubbing his face furiously to stop crying. He was being weak. The men and women he had pictures of all over his bedroom probably ate much less than him and they didn’t complain because they knew being beautiful had a price, and they were beautiful. They’d done what they had to in order to reach their dreams and Louis had to as well. Harry, of course, was his dream; not fame, not money…just Harry, but suddenly, Louis felt like he would sooner hit the lottery than to be noticed by the other boy.

            _Three pounds._

For the epic love story Louis had created in his head to come to life was all he needed. He would be happy then. Louis wanted so badly to be happy. Maybe so far, he’d only lost three pounds, but he wasn’t giving up. It wouldn’t matter how hungry he was if Harry fell in love with him. It wouldn’t hurt anymore.

            Second period was the first class Louis and Harry had together. Harry’s seat was right by the door, but he didn’t even glance up as Louis walked past him that morning (or any other morning for that matter.) Louis tried not to be discouraged.

            Three pounds, he reminded himself. That wasn’t five, and it certainly wasn’t twenty. What had he expected?

            As soon as he took his own seat on the other side of the room, his stomach let out a loud growl and heat rose to his face, eyes darting back towards the doorway. Harry hadn’t flinched, still texting someone on his phone, face blank and bored. For the first time, Louis was glad he was invisible to him.

            _Stop it_ , Louis silently begged as his stomach let out another growl, discreetly pinching the fat around his waistline to remind his body why it couldn’t eat. It seemed to get the point, not growling again until the end of class.

 

            “So…are you just never going to eat again?” Niall questioned at lunch.

            “I do eat,” Louis told him, wrapping his arms around his middle self-consciously. Deceivingly, his stomach decided to give another growl, this one sounding much like a desperate wail for help. Niall and Liam raised an eyebrow each, their faces scrunched in concern.

            “Is it a money thing?” Liam asked softly. “Because we can split my lunch. I only eat it because it’s there, I don’t really want it all.”

            “It’s not a money thing,” Louis assured him, flinching when Liam moved his tray closer to him.

            “What is it then?” Liam pressed.

            “My metabolism is slowing down. I just don’t get as hungry anymore.”

            “You’re fourteen!” Niall said incredulously. Louis shrugged.

            “Besides,” Liam continued, “you _sound_ hungry.”

            “Yeah, I would greatly appreciate it if you pretend you didn’t hear that,” Louis said, face turning pink again.

            “At least eat a chip,” Niall said, sliding his own towards his friend. Louis straightened up his body, leaning ever so slightly away from the greasy calories he did not need, but forced a smile as he said,

            “This must be serious if you’re giving away your food, Ni.”

            Niall did not return the smile.

            “I’m worried about you, man.”

            “Don’t be. I’m fine,” Louis said, standing up and grabbing his backpack from the seat next to him, ignoring the dizziness that overcame him. Luckily, neither of his friends said anything as he made his way out of the cafeteria, but he felt their eyes burning into his back until he rounded the corner and was out of sight.

           

            The first thing Louis did when he got home was strip and weigh himself again. The only thing he’d ingested all day was half a bottle of water, so surely he’d had to lose those pesky two pounds, right?

            Louis let out an audible gasp when he saw that, somehow, he’d gained a pound.

            Deciding to screw being strong for now, Louis let himself cry that time, getting dressed again before collapsing on the floor and letting the tears fall. He couldn’t even starve himself right.

            Louis wasn’t sure how long he stayed on the bathroom floor, but eventually he stopped crying and stood on shaky legs to go to his bedroom. Though the tears had stopped, Louis didn’t feel any better, and as if it was second nature, (which, actually, it kind of was), Louis opened the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out the pocket knife his dad had given him the last time Louis had seen him. Flipping it open, Louis placed the blade against his wrist and pushed as hard as he could with his shaking hands, dragging it up his arm until the knife fell out of his hand and onto his bed, leaving little drops of blood on the sheets.

          Louis watched himself bleed for a while, not bandaging it right away like normal, kind of wishing he would bleed to death right there in his bedroom while the pictures on his walls stared down and mocked him for being so cowardly and weak.

            It was only when he began to get light-headed that Louis stumbled his way back to the bathroom to wash and bandage up. He couldn’t let himself die like this; not when he looked like this. The mortician would probably laugh while changing him into his funeral clothes, being both amused and disgusted by his dead, fat body. The mortician wouldn’t blame him at all for leaving. They might even thank him, for, without him, the world would be more a beautiful place.

            Once he was all bandaged up, Louis drank a small glass of water, even though he didn’t want to. Water could bloat him, he knew, but he was still dizzy and needed his energy to get him through his new nightly goal of two hundred sit-ups.

            Before he even reached number ten, Louis was unconscious on his floor.

 

_Dear diary,_

_This is harder than I thought it would be_

_Why can’t I make the room stop spinning?_

_Is it really worth dying for a dream?_

_I guess, no matter how it ends, at least I’ll be free_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um...please forgive my attempts at poetry XD
> 
> Also, Harry will be in this more soon, I promise :)


	3. Chapter 3

            Louis woke up to his alarm the next morning, still on the floor. It took a while for him to pull himself out of the land of the sleeping, and when he did finally pry his exhausted eyes open, his head pounded, the room spun and his stomach gave a lurch. Louis was sure if he’d had anything in his system, he would have been sick all over himself, which, wasn’t that glamourous?

            Using every ounce of strength he had, Louis forced himself up and turned off his alarm. His whole body was shaking. He knew he couldn’t survive the day like this, or even the morning, so Louis reluctantly went to the kitchen to pour himself some juice, surprised, but grateful, that he didn’t drop the jug.

            Louis almost regretted his sorry excuse for a breakfast as he put his glass in the sink, already feeling the sugary calories sticking to his thighs and stomach and making him lose the minimal amount of progress he’d made, but he knew it had been a necessity. He didn’t feel one hundred percent yet, but he could at least see clearly and didn’t think he was at risk of collapsing any time soon.

            That didn’t last long, though, and by lunch he felt like death again. Louis had thought about skipping the lunch period altogether, but he didn’t know where else to go and was too tired to think about it, so he made his way to his group’s regular table, not even saying hi before falling into his chair and resting his forehead on the table. He felt eyes on him again, but ignored it, letting his body and mind fall somewhere between sleep and consciousness. A voice said something, but he ignored it. The voice kept speaking, getting more and more frantic, but nothing was as important as Louis’s sleep, so he still didn’t move a muscle.

            “Louis!”

            Unwillingly, Louis jumped, startled, and sat up quickly, gripping his seat as his head spun.

            “What?” he asked, blinking blearily at the boys sitting across from him.

            “This has to stop,” Niall said and, oh, he had been the one speaking all along.

            “Please don’t,” Louis begged through a whine, holding his head up with one hand, forcing his eyes to stay open.

            “I’m not going to sit around and watch you kill yourself!” the other teen said, and if Louis had had enough energy, he would have rolled his eyes.

            “I’m not killing myself, Niall. Actually, I’m probably healthier now that I’m eating better.”

            “You’re not eating better! You’re not eating at all.”

            “Yes I am.”

            “Prove it.”

            Tearing his own turkey sandwich in half, Niall set it on a napkin and slid it to Louis, who wrinkled his nose slightly in disgust. _So much bread._

            “I ate this morning. I’m not hungry right now.”

            “ _We_ don’t know that you ate this morning,” Niall argued.

            “I guess you’re just going to have to trust me then.”

            “Why did you start this…’diet’ anyway?” Liam questioned.

            “I needed to lose weight…,” Louis answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

            “No you didn’t,” Liam said. Louis huffed.

            “Tell that to the man in the mirror.”

            “You’re gorgeous, Lou,” Liam continued. “You always have been. You don’t need to change anything about yourself.”

            Louis snorted then. “Can you give your eyeballs to Harry Styles, please?”

            That was apparently the wrong thing to say. Louis’s’ friends exchanged glances with each other, letting out silent sighs that Louis could see by the slump of their shoulders.

            “So that’s what this is about?” Niall said, and it didn’t really sound like a question.

            “Getting a guy’s attention isn’t worth starving yourself,” Liam told Louis.

            “I’m not starving myself,” Louis took his turn to sigh. “Plus, Liam, wouldn’t you do anything to get Zayn to notice you?”

            Zayn Malik was Harry’s best friend, just as popular, just as gorgeous, and Liam had had a crush on him since the same day as Louis saw Harry and fell madly in love. Most people had a crush on Zayn to be fair, and Louis could appreciate his beauty, yet was unsure he was a good fit for Liam. He’d been suspended on more than one occasion for fighting-and winning by a landslide each time. Louis wanted Liam happy, but if Zayn ever hurt him, he better be prepared for death.

            Unfortunately for Liam, however, he was in the same boat with Zayn as Louis was with Harry.

            “I wouldn’t do _anything_ , Lou,” Liam said and, oh yeah, they’d been having a conversation. A stupid, pointless conversation. “I wouldn’t kill myself.”

            “I’m not killing myself!” Louis exclaimed, getting angry despite the fact that, deep down, he knew they may be right. “I’m going to class,” he mumbled then, gathering his things and quickly heading out of the cafeteria. The other boys didn’t even watch him that time.

            Not a moment too soon, Louis collapsed into his seat in the empty classroom, leaning against the wall he was sat next to and closing his eyes. He just wanted to sleep. He was tired of thinking and extremely tired of feeling. _Sleep…_

Fortunately, his body agreed with his mind for once and he fell into a light sleep; deep enough for comfort but leaving him aware enough to not be completely oblivious to his surroundings.

           He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in that state, but way too soon, something was pulling his mind back from the land of rest. Louis may have outwardly groaned. He wasn’t really sure. But whatever.

            Louis made sure to keep his eyes shut, willing himself to go back to sleep before he realized what had woken him up in the first place. Someone was staring at him. And pretty intently, too; he could feel it.

            Prying his eyes open and sitting up as fast as his body would allow, Louis focused on finding the source of the stare, which didn’t take long.

         For the first time in his entire existence, Louis locked eyes with Harry Styles. Time seemed to freeze for a minute, it really did. For what felt like an eternity, the two just stared at each other. Harry came to his senses first, literally jumping when he realized he’d been caught staring, and he quickly dove into his backpack, frantically looking for something, or at least pretending to.

           So Louis was finally noticed by Harry…and the guy thought he was a freak. There was no magical ‘hello,’ no dimpled smile; just quick avoidance.

            Sighing, Louis leaned against his support again, closing his eyes to, this time, fight off tears.

 

            That day was one of Louis’s mom’s short shifts at the hospital, so she was already home when Louis arrived back from school. She seemed to be in a good mood, talking to Louis until he told her he had a lot of homework and made an escape to his room. He felt bad, and normally he enjoyed when she actually wanted his company, but Louis had the world’s biggest headache and faking a smile was just too hard.

            Louis didn’t hear from his mom again until later that evening. Unluckily, his name was followed by the two words he most dreaded; “dinner time.”

            “I don’t feel good, mum,” Louis called as he started to make his way to the kitchen. “I don’t think I can eat.”

            His mom met him in the hallway, eyeing Louis worriedly. “I ordered your favorite pizza though, baby,” she said. “Can’t you just eat one piece?”

            “I don’t think so. I’m really nauseous. I’m sorry.”

            “It’s okay,” she said, feeling her son’s forehead before ruffling his hair. “But you’ve got to eat something. Chicken noodle soup?”          

            That would be much better, Louis knew. He could probably get away with eating mostly broth. But Louis could see the disappointment clearly on his mother’s face and his guilt grew. She was trying so hard to be close to him today, and he’d pushed away all her gestures. He knew that she wouldn’t blame him for being sick, but Louis also knew he was just lying to her, and she didn’t deserve that.

            “I’ll try to eat some pizza,” Louis gave in, feeling like a failure immediately. His mom beamed.

            “Great! I bought some coca-cola also, so maybe that will settle your stomach a bit.”

            Great. Sugary, high-calorie soda on top of greasy, fattening pizza was _not_ what Louis needed.

            The smell of his once favorite food wafted into Louis’s nostrils before he had even reached the kitchen and while, stomach gave a panful jab, craving the saucy cheese and pepperonis, his mind was screaming.

            His mom got his plate, setting two pieces on it and assuring him he didn’t have to eat it all before handing him a can of coke. Of course, Louis had no intention of eating it all, but he was weak and before he knew it, he’d shut up the voice in his head shrieking at him to stop and shoved both pieces of pizza down his throat, along with the whole soda.

            He felt so, so sick.

            “Thanks for dinner, mum,” Louis said, jumping up to put his plate in the sink and the can in the recycling bin before kissing her on the cheek and making a beeline for the bathroom. Though he gagged and dry-heaved into the toilet, nothing would come up, his stomach refusing to let go of the only source of nourishment Louis had had for a while, even though he could feel the food just sitting there, making his stomach protrude even more than it already was.

            The nausea passed after a few minutes of pointless heaving, and tears stung Louis’s eyes. He needed it all out. Out, out, out.

            Taking a deep breath, Louis repositioned himself over the toilet bowl and batted at his sweaty fringe before slowly raising a hand and sliding both his index and middle finger down his throat.

            The first time Louis gagged, his hand jerked, trying to remove itself from his mouth, but Louis took another deep breath and pushed them further. He gagged again. His stomach heaved painfully. Louis kept going. With one last gag and a cough, his dinner finally came back, making its way from his stomach up his throat and out into the toilet.

            _What did you do, Louis?_

Though he didn’t feel nearly empty enough, Louis was shaking violently and he pushed himself up off the floor, flushing the toilet before washing his hands and brushing his teeth.

            When Louis exited the bathroom, his mom was standing there, face wrinkled in concern, and Louis broke, the tears he’d been holding in all day pouring.

            “I’m so sorry, baby,” the woman said softly, pulling the boy tight into her arms. “I guess you really didn’t feel well, did you?”

            Though he was chastising himself; calling himself weak, a baby, pathetic, Louis just cried into his mom’s arms for a while because maybe he was sick, just not with something as easily cured as the flu. He was supposed to be on a diet. The moment he purged, it became something different. Maybe Liam and Niall really were right. Maybe Louis needed help. Maybe he’d known this all along, but he didn’t know how he was supposed to go about ever becoming normal again when he felt like scum.

            Somehow, Louis forced himself to go to school the next morning. He felt bloated, knowing he’d probably absorbed more calories than he’d purged the previous night (plus his mom had made him eat toast that morning), and so Louis kept his head down, pulling down on his shirt as he walked into second period.

            “Hi, Louis.”

            At the sound of his name, Louis’s head shot up and his arms moved to wrap around his waist self-consciously because why was someone talking to him when he looked like this?

            It wasn’t just any someone that had spoken to him, though. It was Harry. (And when had he learned Louis’s name?)

            “Um…hi…,” Louis said, returning a small smile to Harry’s big, perfect grin. He was just so beautiful…

            And Louis looked like shit, so he quickly moved his gaze back to the floor and headed to his seat far, far away.

            It was only when the teacher began the lecture for the day that it really hit Louis what had happened. _Harry had spoken to him._ Harry said hi. Harry and Louis had exchanged words and even smiles.

            Maybe what Louis was doing wasn’t so bad after all.

 

_Dear diary,_

_My dream started coming true today_

_Maybe the misery really is worth it_

_Maybe one day he’ll think I’m perfect_

_And now I know what I have to do_

           

 

 

           


	4. Chapter 4

            Louis’s weight finally started shedding faster over the next couple of weeks. He’d gotten in a better routine with his eating habits. A glass of water in the morning was enough to get him through until lunch, where he was forced to eat something in order to ease Niall and Liam’s worried minds. Of course, it didn’t help much as he seemed to get thinner by the day, but it at least shut them up for a little bit.

            After lunch, either right before his next class or sometime during that period, Louis would slip off to the bathroom and rid himself of whatever he had eaten. The first time he’d knelt on the filthy school bathroom and made himself sick, knowing fully well that someone could walk in and hear him any second, the shame had been almost too much; worse than even the first time he’d stuck his fingers down his throat. The shame was better than the absolute self-hatred he’d felt the one time he’d kept his food down, though, so Louis didn’t really see any other way.

            Dinner was eaten occasionally, when his mom was home. He’d purge then too, turning on the shower water so nothing could be heard. He dreaded those days because he didn’t like purging. He hated it, actually, but he hated his body more. No matter how quickly the weight dropped, it wasn’t enough. He’d lost fifteen pounds total, but he looked no better, clearly, as Harry hadn’t said a word to him since that first day he’d said hello. Louis has gone over everything he could have done differently that day to catch Harry’s attention, but he had no idea. That’s why he’d been making sure to purge and to do every one of his two hundred sit-ups every night, even though sometimes that would make him sick again despite the fact that all he had in his system to throw up was bile.

            Physically, Louis felt worse, but emotionally he was getting stronger, or maybe he was just becoming numb. His three main goals in life were to keep losing weight, keep the most intimate of his ‘diet’ a secret and, of course, make Harry fall in love with him.

            That was why he was able to enter the classroom dry-eyed and blank faced after, once again, going to the bathroom and making himself sick. Louis had done well, he knew. He’d beaten his record time by a whole minute, but he was too tired to feel proud. He’d grown used to that too, though. He was always so tired.

            “Give the pass to Mr. Styles, please, Mr. Tomlinson,” the teacher said in a bored voice as Louis went to hang up the childish hall pass.

            “What?” Louis asked, blinking over at the woman, who lifted her head from the paper she’d been marking and raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Styles would like to use the hall pass.”

            Heart rate picking up, Louis turned to see Harry walking slowly over to him, smile on his face.

            “Thank you,” he said as Louis held the pass out to him, their fingers brushing as they traded off the object. Louis didn’t speak, suddenly overwhelmingly dizzy. This time, he didn’t think it was because of ridding himself of the only nourishment he’d had in twenty-four hours.

 

            The next morning, Louis was pretty sure he was dying. He was dizzy again, and his stomach was in so much pain he could barely stand straight. It felt like his room was in the negative degrees, and Louis was trembling violently.

            At first, Louis smacked his alarm off and crawled back under his covers, deciding to just lay there and wait for his fate to take him. He realized, though, that if he didn’t show up at school, they would call his mother and on the off chance he wasn’t actually going to die, she would kill him, so he got dressed, drank a hot cup of plain tea to warm himself and caught the bus at the very last minute.

            He was really regretting that decision by his second class-the first he had with Harry-when he was still light-headed and shaking so bad he could barely hold his pencil.  

            He regretted it more when it was announced that they would be doing group work and he was paired with Harry. Normally, he would be ecstatic, but if he was going to be sick or pass out, doing it in front of Harry was not what he wanted.

            Luckily, when they were dismissed to go sit with their partners, Harry stood right away, deciding he would go sit by Louis. He smiled as he walked towards the other teen-was he always smiling?-and Louis gave a weak smile back, heart legitimately palpitating.

            “Hello!” Harry greeted, scooting the desk next to Louis closer to him. Louis almost died right then and there.

            “Hello,” he squeaked back. Great. _Just kill me now_ , Louis begged the gods, but they didn’t.

            “Are you okay?” Harry asked, studying Louis’s face. The younger guy looked down quickly, flipping open his book to a random page and pulling out a piece of paper as he mumbled that he was fine. It took a good couple of moments for Harry to remove his eyes and get out his own materials.

Despite the awkward beginning, Louis supposed the whole thing could have gone worse. Sure, sometimes he got distracted by the way Harry’s full lips moved or by his slow, deep voice, but it was early in the morning. He could get away with not being completely there, and at least he had a distraction from his misery.

            It didn’t seem like much time at all had passed before the bell rang, startling both boys. They had finished their work early and had been conversing since then. Louis had learned that Harry had an older sister and a cat, and also that he was much more amazing than Louis had ever dreamed of. Louis felt as if he acted a bit odd himself, as he’d been flustered and still so dizzy, but Harry was nice, at least.

            “That went fast,” Harry commented, seeming to read Louis’s mind. “I’ll see you in fifth?” he verified, standing and slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he stared down at Louis, who was still prepping his legs to move.

            “Yeah. See you then,” he said, standing slowly. It wasn’t slow enough, apparently, because his head spun and the room went black. Louis felt himself falling forward as if in slow motion, but he never hit the ground and blinking open his eyes slowly, he noticed that the reason for that was Harry, who had placed both of his hands on Louis’s shoulders, holding him up, his eyes wide and fearful.

            “Louis?” he asked. His voice sounded far away, but Louis nodded anyway, realizing belatedly that that was a bad idea.

            “I’m okay,” he said anyway, feeling as if he was slurring. “Sorry about that. Just…low blood sugar.”

            It wasn’t really a lie.

            “Low blood sugar?” Harry repeated, face smoothing as he sat Louis back in his chair. “I have the perfect solution to that.”

            Putting his backpack up on the desk, he opened it up and began searching inside. They were the only two in the room, even the teacher having disappeared somewhere, and Louis cleared his throat awkwardly, embarrassed.

            Soon, Harry pulled a banana out and turned back to Louis, smile back on his face.

            “Here you go! This will help.”

            “You keep bananas in your backpack?” Louis asked, accepting the fruit but not peeling it.

            “I do.” Harry nodded. “Eat it. You’ll feel better, I promise.”

            Hesitating a moment, Louis peeled the banana and took a small bite. Harry smiled wider.

            “We’re going to be late,” Louis announced after his second bite, attempting to stand, but Harry gently stopped him.

            “It’s okay. We have a good excuse.”

            Reluctantly, Louis began to eat again, head becoming clearer with each bite but mind screaming at him again.

            When the last of the banana had been eaten, Louis stood again. No tragedies happened that time.

            “Thank you,” he said, pulling self-consciously at his clothing. “Sorry about all that…”

            “No need to apologize!” Harry assured, relaxing his own body as he grew more confident that Louis wasn’t going to collapse on him again. “Are you hypoglycemic?”

            “Um, yeah,” Louis lied. That had something to do with blood sugar, right? Either way, it sounded better than, ‘No, not at all, I just starve myself.’

            “Do you feel better?”

            “Yeah, I’m fine.”

            “Good. Where’s your next class?”

            “Oh, it’s at the other end of the school. I’ll be fine though. Thanks again.”

            “Hold on,” Harry said, hurrying after Louis. “At least let me walk you there just to be sure.”

            “You don’t have to do that..,” Louis said, though heat rose to his face at the thought.

            “I want to.”

            “Where’s your class?”

            “Doesn’t matter.”

            “You’re going to be late…”

            “That’s okay.”

            “Well…okay. But you still don’t have to.”

            “But I still want to.”

            The corners of Louis’s mouth twitched and he glanced down to the floor, trying to compose himself.

            “Okay. It’s this way…”

            They walked together, Harry humming beside Louis. The bell rang before they’d even reached Louis’s class and he opened to apologize again, but Harry stopped him.

            “This is it,” Louis said, slowing as they reached the entrance to the classroom. “Thanks again.”

            “You’re welcome. I hope you’re okay.”

            “I’m fine.”

            “Alright. See you soon.”

            Louis smiled, a rare, effortless smile, and waved before entering the room silently, ignoring his classmates’ stares as he took his seat, grin still on his face.

            After a few minutes, Louis realized that he should probably go and make himself sick since the banana he’d eaten was definitely not in his diet plan, but Harry had given him the banana, and he didn’t want to, so he didn’t.

 

            “Hey, Louis,” Harry said when the younger student entered their fifth class. “How are you?”

            “Much better,” Louis told him with another smile, and it was the truth. He hadn’t eaten at lunch (and he had been in such a good mood that Niall and Liam didn’t say anything), but he felt better than he had in a while. No matter what did or didn’t happen with Harry, Louis silently thanked him for saving him, for that one day at least.

            Once class was over, Harry spent a bit of time rummaging in his backpack and ended up walking out at the same time as Louis. It kind of seemed like he wanted to say something, but eventually, he just told Louis he’d see him tomorrow and went his own way. Louis smiled anyway. He was still far away from a date, he knew; still had work to do, but at least now, he had more motivation than ever.

            It was only when he got home and stood in front of the mirror that he realized just how much work he still had to do. Heat rose to his face again, but this time he was embarrassed. _This_ was what Harry had been looking at today. This was not how he was supposed to look like as his dream came to life.

            That was probably because his dream world wasn’t coming true. Harry was simply being nice to him because he was a nice person, and he probably felt sorry for Louis for having to be in his presence when, as bad as Louis looked normally, he had to look a hundred times worse next to Harry. Louis knew it, and Harry did too; he had to. He’d probably been so disgusted by how fast he’d eaten the banana earlier…

            The banana that Louis stupidly hadn’t thrown up.

            Turning quickly away from the mirror, Louis lifted the toilet lid and crashed down onto his knees, sticking those usual two fingers down his throat, not slowing down or easing up even as his throat ached and burned and his stomach started having painful spasms. He should have done this a while ago. How could he let himself slack on the only thing he was finally learning to do right?

            As Louis feared, it was too late to get any of the food he’d consumed earlier up. The only thing he did manage to throw up was blood, and he gasped at the sight. That had never happened before, and Louis was both intrigued and terrified. It was all very confusing and overwhelming, so after washing up, Louis went to his room, curled up in bed and tried to focus on earlier; tried to get the feeling back that things were finally going right.

            But he couldn’t because nothing was going right. He’d been naïve to ever think it was.

            Still, Louis was determined.

 

_Dear diary,_

_I felt fine for a moment today_

_It faded quickly but that’s okay_

_Because it reminded me what I’m fighting for_

_And now I know for certain that the misery is worth it_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Another negative ending. But there's still plenty of time ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is about twice the length of my other chapters, but hopefully it's worth it. Sorry about that...

            Louis missed school for the rest of the week, telling his mom he’d caught the stomach flu when, really, he couldn’t face Harry yet after seeing what he’d seen the other day. Also, Louis figured he’d make much more progress on his diet if he didn’t eat lunch because, even though he threw as much of it up as he could, he knew some of it was absorbed, making him fatter and uglier each day.

            On the second day, Louis’s mom threatened to take him to the doctor, but Louis claimed he just had to wait it out, telling her that Liam had had the same thing and it lasted a few days, but wasn’t anything serious.

            Louis didn’t even feel bad about lying this time. He had no other choice.

            Since Louis’s mom thought he was sick anyway, he could purge without trying to hide the fact that he was getting sick. The unfortunate part of that was that she kept forcing water and juices down Louis’s throat to keep him hydrated and, though he didn’t dare weigh himself, Louis swore he was gaining from the liquids alone and so purged every time he had so much as a sip.

            There was blood. Louis barely noticed it.

            The first two days Louis stayed home, his mother stayed home with him, which was nice, he guessed, although he wished she wouldn’t. He hated her worried face each time he came out of the bathroom, she having no idea that she’d just heard her son making himself vomit; having no idea that he had been on the bathroom floor, silently telling himself how worthless he was to make it easier to do.

            On the third day of Louis’s “illness”, though she was torn, the nurse really had no choice but to go back to work. That was a blessing, really, because she didn’t have to see her son pass out on the floor, exhausted from the short journey from his bedroom to the hall closet, where he’d been heading to get a blanket for his frail, shivering body.

            When Louis first came back around on the ground, he honestly had no idea what happened, sure he had to have hit his head because why else would it hurt so badly? When he remembered that there was no head injury; that he’d simply collapsed because his body had been too weak to take another step, tears threatened to start falling because he hadn’t meant for it to get this bad. He didn’t mean to actually start killing himself.

            But, in a way, it made him feel strong that he wasn’t giving up on the life he wanted; that he was willing to do anything for it.

 

            Friday afternoon, Louis’s cell phone rang and he smiled a bit as he saw Liam’s name shining up at him. He missed his friends, he did, but they were toxic to him-and Louis was toxic to them.

            “Hey, Li,” Louis answered, voice hoarse from infrequent use and too frequent of vomiting.

            “Hey, Lou. How are you feeling?”

            “Okay, I guess.”

            “Think you’ll be able to come back Monday?”

            “I don’t know. Probably.”

            If Louis faked sick much longer, he would be forced to go to the doctor, and he couldn’t have that.

            “Good. Someone misses you.”

            “Aww, I miss you too, Li-Li.”

            “That’s sweet, Lou-Lou, but I wasn’t talking about me.”

            “Bastard. Have I mentioned that Niall has always been my favorite?”

            Liam laughed a little and paused for a second as he shifted the phone.

            “Not Niall either. Harry asked us if you were okay today.”

            Louis sat up quickly, heart giving an excited jump as a grin took place on his face.

“No he didn’t.”

            “Yes he did.”

            “You’re lying.”

            “Why would I do that?”

            “To make me feel good.”

            The smile began to slide off Louis’s face then. He’d been joking about the whole thing up until that point, but he was probably actually right. Harry wouldn’t ask about him. Harry didn’t care.

 

            “Louis! You’re back!”

            Harry’s voice was quick to greet Louis when he was back at school on Monday and Louis gave a small smile along with  a soft, “Hi, Harry,” before taking his seat. He didn’t want Harry to look at him for longer than necessary.

          For some reason, when Louis had sat down and looked over at the other teen again, his eyes were still glued to him, though he looked away when he noticed Louis staring back. Sighing, Louis pulled his cold hands into the sleeves of his too-big hoodie and wrapped his arms around his middle, partly because his stomach hurt, but also so he could feel the fat his arms were digging into and be reminded of why he was doing this.

            According to the scale that morning, Louis had lost another seven pounds during his fake flu stint, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out where from.

            _Fat, fat, fat. Ugly, ugly, ugly. Worthless, worthless, worthless._

The same words kept repeating in Louis’s head over and over all day, about driving him mad, but he was distracted when he got to the lunch table and saw that he wasn’t the only one wallowing in misery.

            “What’s wrong with Liam?” Louis asked, concerned, furrowing his brow at his friend who was slumped over in his seat, head on the table.

            “He’s fighting fate,” Niall explained, patting Liam on the back, though he had an amused expression on his face.

            “What do you mean?” Louis questioned, sitting beside Liam instead of across from the two like normal.

            “So he had this epic, cheesy, rom-com moment with Zayn earlier, right? Like, Liam was running late coming out of the classroom so he just had all of his books and whatever in his arms, running out the door. Then, suddenly, he ran right smack into Zayn Malik and the books went flying everywhere. Liam was apologizing, Zayn was apologizing and helping him pick up his shit and when they stood, their eyes locked, slow music started playing in the distance, probably…and then Liam ran.”

            “Awww, Li!” Louis cooed, sympathetically rubbing the other’s back. Liam let out a sound that Louis wasn’t sure qualified as human and Niall sighed dramatically.

            “I think you two should just date each other,” the Irish kid said, and the other twos’ heads snapped to him quickly, mouths agape.

            “Ew!”” Louis shrieked while Liam said, incredulously,

            “We’re brothers!”

            “Actually, you’re not,” Niall replied calmly. “You were step brothers back when you still shat your pants. It doesn’t count.”

            “I did not shit my pants when I was six,” Louis remarked, eyeing Niall as if he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had.

            “You get my point, and I’m serious. You’re both losing your minds over these guys you’ve barely talked to, but you’re completely comfortable around each other. Lou, you know Liam doesn’t care what your body looks like and Li, Louis doesn’t set off the fight-or-flight switch in your brain.”

            Louis and Liam both turned to each other, not because they thought Niall had a point, but because they were silently communicating whether they should have him psychologically evaluated. Or drug tested.

            “Lou seems to be making good progress with Harry anyway,” Liam finally said, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

            “Not really,” Louis said, opening his water bottle and taking a sip. The boys eyed it, but, considering Liam had been too traumatized to eat, they couldn’t really say anything.

            “He seemed worried when you were sick,” Liam reasoned.

            “That didn’t happen,” Louis said, holding back a sigh. Honestly, how dumb did Liam think he was?

            “It did happen, though,” Niall told him. Louis shook his head, continuing to empty his water bottle. (Water, he learned, was okay. It was juice he had to steer clear of.)

The others sighed in unison.

 

            Louis had thought his mom would be home when he got back from school, as it was her day off, but he came back to an empty house. That was okay, though, because that meant he didn’t have to eat and he could get a break from purging.

            It was early when Louis fell asleep watching TV, but he didn’t wake again until a crash outside his bedroom door startled him from his sleep.

            As he opened his bedroom door, he realized belatedly that he should probably have grabbed a weapon in case someone had broken in, but it turned out to just be his mom, sprawled out on the floor and giggling to herself.

            “Sorry, Lou,” she slurred when she noticed her son kneeling in front of her. “Did I wake you, baby?”

            “It’s okay, mum,” Louis said, taking her wrist gently as she repeatedly smacked his head, trying to pet him. “Let’s get you to bed.”

            “It’s not okay, Lou!” the woman exclaimed, tears glinting in her eyes. “You have school in the morning and if you don’t sleep, how will you get good grades?!”

            “It’s only, like, ten o’ clock, mum. There’s plenty of time to sleep. Come on.”

            This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but when Louis stood, pulling his mother up with him, stars flashed in front of his eyes and he crashed down onto his knees, drained, and it _was_ the first time that happened.

            “Lou?” the woman asked, leaning against the wall for support as she tried to focus her eyes on her child.

            “Sorry,” Louis said, pressing the tops of his wrists against his eyes to try and make the stars go away. “Sorry, mum. I’m just a bit weak from being so sick last week.”

            “Come here, love. I’ll help you up.”

            Reluctantly, Louis took the hand she was offering and stood, though that nearly ended in both of them on the floor again.

            The two seemed to communicate silently, agreeing it was best if they just saw themselves to their beds and Louis made his way weakly back to his room.

            _You really are a failure, Louis,_ he chastised himself silently. _Now you can’t even be a proper son. You’re so weak. Fat, ugly, worthless, weak…_

Try as he might-and he did try-Louis couldn’t get that voice in his head to shut up. He only knew of two fool-proof methods to stop it. One was purging, but he knew that, with nothing in his system, it would just be bile or blood again, and he didn’t want to put that much effort into something just for minimal effectiveness.

            So he chose the razor blade.

 

            The voice was talking again when Louis woke up the next morning, but this time, it was being much nicer. This time, its mantra was, _This has to stop._

And it did. Louis knew that, so he joined his mother at the breakfast table, helping himself to the extra bacon and eggs she had fixed.

            It wasn’t Louis’s choice when he was hunched over the toilet that time, everything he’d eaten rushing up and out. Louis was going to keep it down that time. Sure, he had been disgusted with himself, but he wasn’t going to remedy that by shoving his fingers down his throat.

            Apparently, his body was disgusted enough with him to do the job itself.

            “Aww, baby, you can’t be sick again,” his mom said with a frown as he emerged from the bathroom pale and sweaty.

            “I think I just tried to eat too much,” he told her, moving away as she reached to feel his forehead.

            “Let’s both play hooky today, yeah?” she suggested. Louis nodded, in too much pain to really argue.

            The pair spent the entire day in front of the television. Louis’s mom tried to get him to talk, but she eventually gave up upon realizing that it was pointless.

            Louis managed to eventually shower and then eat some soup and half a sandwich, which he desperately wanted to throw up, but didn’t for fear of being forced to the doctor.

            Later that afternoon, Louis’s mom made her way to her room to take a nap, but Louis didn’t even have time to feel lonely before his phone rang.

            “Hello, Liam.”

            “Are you dressed?”

            “Um…okay, you weirdo!”

            “No, I’m asking because you’re about to have a visitor.”

            “And who would that be…?”

            “Harry.”

            Louis thought he actually may have died for a second.

            “Why is Harry coming to me flat…?!”

            “Well, he said he didn’t want you to get more behind on your work, so I gave him your schedule, he gathered your assignments and is now on his way to drop them off to you.”

            “I hate you.”

            “No you don’t.”

            “I’m going to die.”

            “No you’re not.”

            “I’m having a heart attack.”

            “Louis.”

            Liam actually had the audacity to _laugh_. Louis really did hate him. Honestly.

            “You’ll be fine, babe. I gotta go. Text me details!”

            With that, the line was disconnected. Louis probably would have actually had a heart attack, but he didn’t have time because he had to fix his hair.

            He had just finished when the doorbell rang.

            “Um…hi,” Harry said with an awkward giggle after Louis had opened the door. “I, um, I brought your work so you don’t have to worry about it when you get back and, um, so you could start on it if you wanted. Um…yeah. So…are you okay?”

            “Yeah, I’m fine,” Louis said, choosing to not even attempt and reply at everything else. “I gave me mum what I had and I just wanted to stay home and make sure she was okay.”

            “Oh. That’s nice. Wait, is she okay?”

            “Yeah. She’s good.”

            “Oh, I’m glad.”

            There was a moment where the two stood there in silence, Harry bouncing on the balls of his feet for some reason, before Louis cleared his throat.

            “Thanks for the work,” he said and, seeming to just remember what he was there for, Harry handed over the carefully organized stack of assignments. “You should probably leave now, though, so you don’t get sick.”

            “Oh,” Harry said, and if Louis didn’t know better, he would say that was disappointment in his voice. “Yeah. Okay. But, hey, um…sometime…when your mum is better…we should totally like…hang out or something.”

            “Yeah, okay,” Louis said, swallowing a scream. “I’ll see you in class and we’ll…make plans I guess?”

            Harry nodded, smile forming on his lips, and he appeared about to leave when a voice behind Louis made the younger guy jump.

            “You should go with him now, Louis,” his mom said. “You know, get away from the germs and such.”

            “But, mum, I don’t want to leave you like this…”

            “I’m a grown woman, Louis. I can take care of myself. Go out and have fun. Just be careful.”

            Without another word, the woman turned and went back to her room, but not before Louis saw the smug look on her face.

            He hated everyone.

            “Well…,” he said, turning back to Harry, who was smiling wider. “Are you free now?”

            “Of course! How about we take a cab to town and see what we can get into there?”

            “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

            So this was it then. Louis was hanging out with Harry Styles, AKA, the love of his life. He wasn’t sure whether he should be happy or scared, so he settled on a combination of both, but he’d felt much worse, so it was still nice.

            When they got out of their small neighborhood and into the local town’s cluster of shops and restaurants, the two began wandering aimlessly, walking so closely that sometimes their hips bumped, making them blush and giggle ridiculously.

            “Do you like Halloween?” Harry asked as they passed the seasonal costume shop, now open since Halloween was only a couple weeks away.

            “Um, yeah, I do,” Louis answered, mildly panicking as it dawned on him that this would be the first Halloween he wouldn’t crash at Liam’s and, along with Niall, they would eat their body weight in candy while watching cheesy B-list horror movies. (And if they happened to get scared and cuddle, whose business was that anyway?) He supposed he could still spend the night with them, but without making themselves miserable on sweets, what was the point?

            “Let’s go in here,” Harry said, heading into the shop, but glancing behind him before entering to make sure Louis was following.

            “Hello, boys,” the middle-aged female shop keeper greeted, leery tone to her voice. “Only try on items that you are seriously considering buying, please.”

            “Yes, ma’am,” Harry replied, flashing her one of his wonderful smiles. She couldn’t help but smile back, shaking her head as she probably imagined the shenanigans those dimples could help the guy get away with. Louis knew he was.

            “Do you usually dress up?” Harry asked, snatching a hot pink high-top hat from a shelf and placing it on Louis’s head. Louis knew better than to look in the mirror, but he offered Harry a smile anyway.

            “I haven’t for a while. Haven’t really had an excuse.”

            “Yeah, me neither. Kind of miss it, though.”

            “Yeah,” Louis agreed.

            “What was your favorite costume you ever had?” Harry asked, moving forward to place a pair of googly eyes on himself.

            “Oh god, I don’t know. Most of them were pretty embarrassing, to be honest.”

            “I was Shirley Temple one year,” Harry mused, and Louis couldn’t help the loud laugh that came out of his mouth, clamping one hand over it as Harry beamed at him.

            “You’ve got the curls,” Louis finally said once he trusted his voice not to crack. “Not sure about the red hair though.”

            “Okay, I was a manly, brunette Shirley Temple.”

            “Manly?”

            “The manliest.”

            Louis nodded, still smiling, body easing up a little. “Um, this is pretty boring and stereotypical, but I guess my favorite costume was a vampire when I was nine. I don’t know why.”

            “Vampires are awesome.”

            “You’d make a better vampire than I did though, I think.”

            “Yeah?”

            Pulling a cape next, Harry wrapped it around his shoulders and swished it around, puckering his lips in what Louis guessed was supposed to be a sinister face, but actually just succeeded in making Louis laugh again. That was honestly quite a feat though, these days.

            “Yeah,” Louis decided. “I should definitely leave the vampirism thing to you.”

            “Hmm. Maybe that’s what I’ll be this year.”

            “Oh, so you’re doing something this year then?”

            Suddenly, Harry’s entire stance changed. His muscles tensed and the smile slid off his face, gulping as he became extremely interested in different kinds of fangs.

            “Well, I mean, it’s kind of lame,” he said as he browsed, “but Zayn and I thought about going to the school dance this year…”

            “That’s not lame,” Louis said, and Harry looked over to him, seeming panicked.

            “But not, like, together. Zayn and I aren’t together or, like, going as a couple or anything…”

            “Well, that’s okay too,” Louis assured him a bit taken back by the other’s anxiety.

            “So, like, do you want to come? To the dance, I mean? With me?”

            A beat of silence passed in which Louis was sure he looked quite sophisticated with his mouth dropped open and such, but before he could even gather his thoughts, Harry was rambling again.

            “I mean, if you aren’t with somebody, that is, or if you even like guys. Oh god, you’re probably straight, aren’t you?! I’m so, so sorry! I just made this totally awkward and-”

            “Harry.”

            Harry’s mouth snapped shut immediately once Louis said his name, his eyes wide as he stared.

            “I would love to go to the dance with you,” Louis answered, smile slowly spreading across his lips and this time, it was Harry’s mouth that fell open.

            “Well, good. Great. I mean, that’s awesome. But…um…can I ask you again, and maybe this time not be so weird about it?”

            “Okay,” Louis said with a laugh. Harry smiled fleetingly, but his face quickly turned serious again.

            “Wait, will I get the same answer though?”

            “Mhm.”

            “Okay.”

            There was silence again as Harry moved on to the next section of the store, and Louis followed expectantly.

            “Ummmm…,” he finally urged when Harry stayed quiet.

            “Well I’m not asking you now,” Harry said with an amused smile. “It has to be when you’re not expecting it.”

            “I see…”

            “But how about we get a couple of costumes, just in case we happen to be doing something for Halloween this year?”

            “Sounds like a good idea.”

            “Great. So I’m a vampire. What do you want to be?”

            “I honestly haven’t the faintest idea.”

            “How about a vampire slayer?”

            “Vampire slayer?” Louis repeated with a frown. “Why would I want to be something that kills you?”

            “Well, that way, everyone will know that you’re the one who slayed my heart.”

            That time, Louis laughed so hard that he got a bit dizzy, tumbling forward. Harry caught him with a smile, and held onto him as Louis continued giggling.

            “Easy there,” Harry said. “I know my beauty is overwhelming and all, but there’s no need to fall for me…not literally, at least.”

            Louis erupted into another fit of giggles, too happy to even be ashamed.

            In the end, despite Harry’s wonderful reasoning, Louis did not end up being a vampire slayer. He was Peter Pan, as Harry said Louis was his doppelganger.

            Harry also said Peter Pan was hot, so there was that.

            “What now?” Harry asked as they exited the shop, bags in their hands. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

            “I’m good,” Louis said, although, really, he was fantastic.

            “Well, give me some idea,” Harry pleaded. “I don’t want us to have to go home yet.”

            “Tea,” Louis said even though he’d just claimed to not be thirsty, because it was the first thing he thought of, and he and Harry headed down the street to a dainty little café.

            After Louis got his tea (which Harry bought) and Harry got his hot chocolate, the two sat down at a corner table, silently sipping on their drinks. The silence wasn’t awkward this time, though.

            “Hey, Louis,” Harry spoke after a minute, knocking their feet together lightly under the table.

            “Hm?” Louis hummed, taking a longer sip of his drink so he wouldn’t smile too big.

            “The school is having a totally awesome, not-lame-at-all Halloween dance in a couple weeks and I would be honored if you would be my date.”

            Louis had been lucky Harry hadn’t asked him that way the first time, when he was unsuspecting…and standing. He almost fainted now, seated, when he had known it was coming.

            “I would love to go to the dance with you,” Louis replied, a lot less eloquently than he had meant to, but Harry grinned all the same.

            “Great. I’m so glad.”

            The two continued drinking quietly. Louis was the first to break the silence that time. “You know, I wasn’t expecting that question at all.”

            It wasn’t really funny, like, at all, but Harry spit his hot chocolate out all over the table.

 

_Dear diary,_

_I learned how to laugh again today_

_You don’t know how bad I need this to stay_

_Nothing hurt while I was with him_

_He doesn’t know how badly I need this to never end_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually thought of a poem that to go along with this chapter that I was super excited about last night whilst in bed, but before I could drag my body out of bed to write it down, I fell asleep and woke without the faintest idea of how it went. So you got that "poem instead." My apologies for that as well.


	6. Chapter 6

            The next day at school, Louis was approached by Zayn Malik. When he first saw him walking towards him, Louis immediately grew nervous. He’d probably heard about Louis, Harry and the dance by now, so was he coming over to tell Louis he wasn’t good enough to date his best friend? Was he mad that Louis was tagging along?

            “Good morning, Louis,” Zayn greeted pleasantly enough, but Louis tensed up anyway, crossing his arms tight over his chest as he gave a quiet,

            “‘Morning.”

            “I heard you and Harry are going to the Halloween dance together.”

            Louis must be psychic, and he braced himself for whatever was coming.

            “Um…yeah, we are.”

            “That’s awesome!” Zayn said with a smile and Louis blinked because, what? Surely Zayn would not come over just to congratulate him on going to a dance with his friend.

            “I actually have a question,” Zayn continued. Louis swallowed nervously.

            “Okay…”       

           “Your friend with the flippy hair…what’s his name?”

            “Liam…”

            “Liam,” Zayn repeated and smiled. “Is he seeing anyone?”

            _Oh_. That was what this was about. Liam. It had nothing to do with Louis at all. Zayn simply wanted to know about Liam.

Louis let out a soft, relieved sigh right before Zayn’s question really sunk in, and then he gasped. _Zayn wanted to know if Liam was single!!!!_

            “No, he’s not seeing anyone,” Louis answered, words falling out quickly as a smile started to grow on his face. Zayn smiled again as well.

“Cool. Is he into dudes? Do you know?”

            “He likes guys, yeah,” Louis said. Zayn smiled wider.

            “Perfect. I’ll see you around, Louis.”

            As Zayn walked away, Louis’s first thought was to get out his phone and text Liam immediately, but he didn’t, deciding to leave whatever Zayn had planned as a surprise (assuming he had something planned.)

 

            “Hi, Harry,” Louis said as he entered his second class at the same time Harry said, “Hey Louis!” Both boys beamed, but the bell rang, so Louis was forced to take his seat. That didn’t stop the two from continuously looking over at each other, though, grins threatening to split their faces.

 

            Louis’s good mood started to dwindle at lunch as he forced macaroni into his mouth, almost gagging with each bite. He didn’t know if the struggle was noticeable to anyone else, but Niall and Liam were oddly quiet.

            “Hello!” a familiar voice greeted after a few minutes of Louis picking around at his food, and before any of the three really knew what was happening, Harry sat into the seat beside Louis as Zayn lowered himself into the one next to Liam. Insecurity suddenly overwhelming Louis, he sat up straighter and sucked in, sliding the remainder of his lunch over to Niall. The blonde raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Meanwhile, Liam was in his seat dying.

            “Vas happening?” Zayn asked, eyes focused on Liam, who dropped his water bottle. Luckily, the cap was still on.

            Niall carried most of the conversation with the newcomers since Liam had appeared to suddenly turn mute and Louis was only half present, the other half of his mind busily yelling at him for not just choosing the salad instead. Still, Louis could feel Harry’s eyes on him almost constantly and Zayn kept sneaking glances at Liam, smiling slightly to himself each time.

            After what seemed to be the longest lunch period of all eternity, the bell finally rang and the boys stood, gathering their things.

            “Hey, Liam, do you mind if I walk to class with you?” Zayn asked. Still without a voice, Liam simply nodded, mouth mildly agape. Zayn smiled yet again, and off they went. Once they were out of earshot, Niall let out a cackle.

            “Oh, man, what I wouldn’t give to see how _that_ goes.”

            “Be nice,” Louis said, although an amused smile crept up on him as well.

            “So I’m taking it that he does like Zayn?” Harry verified, looking pleased, like he already knew the answer.

            “Just a bit,” Niall answered sarcastically. “You two lovebirds have fun in fifth!”

            After blowing a kiss, Niall skipped away. Louis shook his head, turning to face Harry.

            “So those are my friends.”

            “They’re wonderful,” Harry said. “Don’t let Zayn fool you. He may have acted all cool in front of you guys, but he was practically about to wet himself with nerves before we got to your table.”

            Louis laughed, the two heading off to their class together.

            “They’re a perfect couple then, I suppose.”

            Once out of the cafeteria, Louis’s nerves started to settle, and when they reached their classroom and Harry sat in the chair next to him instead of taking his regular one, Louis was so ecstatic that he forgot to purge.

            Shortly before the bell rang, both Louis and Harry’s phones went off. Louis’s was a text from Liam and it read, _ZAYN ASKED ME 2 THE DWNCE! EJAROIUESRDOIF UAJIJA!_

            By the look on Harry’s face, his was a message of a similar nature. They smiled at each other.      

            “Zayn just made Liam’s day,” Louis commented. “Week, probably, to be honest.”

            “Same for Zayn,” Harry said. “He’s had a crush on Liam for…basically forever.”

            “Really? Why didn’t he say anything?”

            “Because he’s a little chicken,” Harry answered. “Not like I can talk, though.”

            Louis was about to ask what he meant, but then the lecture began.

 

            Harry and Zayn joined the others at lunch again the next day, and Louis was pleased to find that Liam had found his voice again, though no one could really get a word in with Zayn and Niall, who seemed to hit it off rather well.

            “Hey, Niall, are you going to the dance?” Zayn asked finally, and the Irish teen dropped his spork dramatically.

            “Whoa, dude! Watch it! My best friend that you just asked to the dance yesterday is sitting right there!”

            Zayn smiled over at Liam, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

            “I’m not asking for me,” he explained.

            “Probably not,” Niall answered with a shrug. “There isn’t anyone I want to ask.”

            “Do you like girls?”

            “I love girls.”

            With a smirk, Zayn reached into his pocket with the hand that wasn’t on Liam and pulled a picture out from his wallet, sliding it over to Niall.

            “Would you ask her?”            

            “Answer very carefully,” Harry said in a teasing voice. Niall seemed unphased.     

            “She’s hot,” he said, shoving a handful of fries into his mouth as he stared at the picture. “Who is she?”

            “My sister,” Zayn answered. Niall’s eyes widened in horror, which Zayn seemed to take great pride in.

            “She’s single,” he continued. “And she has nothing to do the night of the dance.”

            “Does she go here?” Niall asked, still looking at the picture.

            “No,” Zayn answered, leaning forward to snatch the photograph away. “She goes to an all girls’ school on account of our dad doesn’t trust her in a public school.”

            “But he trusted you?” Liam asked.

            “No,” Zayn said with a smirk. “I used to go to a boys’ school but got kicked out when I was caught giving a guy a blowjob in the bathroom.”

            Though he had to have already heard the story, Harry snorted, shaking his head at his friend.

            “Do you see the high class people I hang around?”

            “I needed the answers to a test, okay?! My reasons were good,” Zayn defended.              

            “Aww, Payno,” Niall cooed, ruffling Liam’s hair. “All this time of quietly lusting after him and all you had to do was sneak some answers.”

            Liam’s face turned an unhealthy shade of red, but somehow managed to get even brighter when Zayn said,

            “Nah, he can get one for free.”

            “So, Zayn, what’s your sister’s name?” Niall asked.

            “Doniya.”

            “And how old is she?”

            “Fifteen, like me. We’re twins.”

            Niall almost choked on a piece of food, but managed to calm himself.

            “And you really think I should ask her?”

            “Well, you two need to at least meet first,” Zayn reasoned. “Hey, we should all do something.”

            “TRIPLE DATE!” Harry cheered.

            “Yeah,” Zayn agreed. “What are you lot doing tonight?”

            As it turned out, no one was doing anything.

            “Cool,” Zayn said. “How about pizza around five? I’ll pick everyone up.”

            “You drive?” Liam asked.

            “Not legally, but yes.” Zayn smiled. “Everyone in?”

            Three voices agreed at once, only one staying silent.

            “Louis?” Harry asked, tilting his head in concern. “Do you not want to?”

            Of course Louis didn’t want to. He would be totally fine hanging out with everybody, but _why_ did food have to be the first thing on their minds?

            “Oh yeah, I forgot,” Niall said with an eye roll. “Louis won’t come get pizza with us. He’s on a-”

            “Actually, pizza sounds great,” Louis interrupted, glaring across the table at his friend.

            “You sure?” Harry asked looking worriedly between the two.

            “Of course. Who doesn’t like pizza?”

 

            Liam and Niall went to Louis’s after school so Zayn would have less stops to make, and when Louis’s mom came home to find the three boys all crowded in the bathroom, messing with their hair in the small mirror above the sink, she let out a highly amused laugh.

            “Date night, boys?” she asked.

            “Yeah,” Liam answered, checking out the precise level of floppiness his hair had.

            “With each other, or…?”

            “No, Lou’s going with this guy from school, I’m going with the guy’s amazingly hot mate and Niall is going with my date’s sister.”

            “Wow. Well, have fun. Louis, is this the same boy who came by the house the other day?”           

            “Yeah. His name is Harry,” Louis answered, finishing up on perfecting his fringe.

            “He’s cute,” his mom said. “Okay, don’t be out too late and all that.”

            “I thought you were going out?” Louis asked.

            “I am, but I’ll still know if you come home late. Mothers are psychic.”

            Louis rolled his eyes.

            “Okay, mum.”

            “And use protection. Especially you, Niall. You’re way too young to reproduce.”

            “MUM!” Louis shrieked. With another laugh, the woman left.

 

            Zayn arrived promptly at five in a bright red sports car. Louis didn’t dare ask how he gained access to such a thing, sure he didn’t want to know.

            “Liam, you’re up front,” Zayn said, leaning over the seat to open the door for him. “The rest of you are in back. Someone is going to have to sit in someone’s lap, and by that, I mean, Louis, you sit your tiny arse on Harry. Niall and Doniya, don’t get any ideas.”

            “It’s kind of hard when I don’t even know who’s who,” Doniya pointed out.

            “Niall is the blondie and Louis is the itty bitty one,” Zayn explained, not having to introduce Liam, as he was already seated next to him. Louis had never been described as “itty bitty” or as having a tiny ass. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, to be honest, as it was a lie.

            “I think you should be on my lap,” Louis told Harry as the older boy slid back into the car after letting Niall in next to Doniya.

            “Why?” Harry asked. “You’re thinner.”

            “Are you kidding? I’ll squish you,” Louis said, pulling nervously at his shirt.

            “I assure you, I’ll survive,” Harry said, tone light but with a slight frown on his face. “Come on. Get in.”

            Biting his lip, Louis reluctantly climbed in on top of Harry, shutting the door after him. Zayn began driving away.

            “Am I hurting you?” Louis asked, turning to look at Harry.

            “I can barely feel ya,” Harry said. Harry was so, so nice.

 

            As the group entered the pizza place, the smell hit Louis’s nose immediately, simultaneously making his stomach growl and clench up, a sick feeling twisting in his gut. He’d already been slacking on his diet; not able to purge the past couple of days with Harry’s constant attention in their class after lunch, and he was gaining so much weight, he could feel it.

            They all got three large pizzas and there was so much going on that several minutes passed before anyone noticed that Louis hadn’t had a single slice. Unfortunately, that person had to be Harry.

            “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly into Louis’s ear, putting his arm around him, as the others were involved in a conversation that didn’t directly involve them. “Do you feel sick again?”

            “No, I’m fine,” Louis assured him with a small smile. Harry didn’t look comforted.

            “What is it then? Do you not like any of these kinds?”

            “No, no, I’m just not hungry right now.”

            “Well you paid for part of it. Can’t you just eat one piece?”

            Louis wanted to say no; needed to say no, but the way Harry was staring into his eyes as one finger gently stroked his shoulder had Louis caving in and grabbing a piece, shoving it into his mouth like a disgusting pig. Harry smiled, probably internally laughing at him.

            Ten minutes later, Louis was on his knees in the stall of the pizza parlor, head in the toilet as he violently retched up what he’d just eaten. Tears stung his eyes because he’d tried to fight the urge, but he just couldn’t. He should be happy, he knew. Things with Harry were beginning to go how he wanted them to, but Harry was probably like the others; sticking with Louis until he found something better. So Louis needed to make himself be that something better.

            When he pulled himself from the bathroom floor, a sharp pain in his stomach had Louis doubling over, almost making him get sick again, but he took a few deep breaths, fought off the nausea, flushed the toilet and left the stall, coming face-to-face with Niall, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest frown on his face. Louis gasped, freezing.

            “So that’s how you do it,” Niall said. His tone was sad.

            “What are you talking about?” Louis asked, somehow getting his legs to work as he went to the sink to wash his hands.

            “How you keep losing weight even though you’re eating.”

            “Don’t be ridiculous, Niall. I just don’t feel well.”

            “Well yeah, cuz you’re starving.”

            “No, I’m not.”

            “How long has this been going on?”

            “I’m not making myself sick, Niall. Doniya is really pretty. You should ask her to the dance.”

            “Yeah, she is and I will, but don’t change the subject, Louis.”

            “There’s nothing to talk about!”

            “Fine,” the other teen sighed. “But if you’re sick, Zayn should probably take you home.”

            “NO! I feel okay now. I just wasn’t hungry and ate way too fast. I’m not actually sick. I’m good.”

            Niall stared as Louis popped a piece of gum into his mouth and Louis heard him sigh again as he turned to leave the bathroom.

            A minute later, Niall came back to the table, unable to even make eye contact with Louis for the rest of the night. Louis felt bad, but he knew Niall just didn’t understand. Louis had tried to get better, but it was no use. This was his life now.

 

_Dear diary,_

_I’m so confused_

_I thought I’d be happy with him_

_And even though he makes me feel good_

_I always end up making myself feel worse_


	7. Chapter 7

            On Friday night, Louis fell asleep happy and excited for the next day. He and Harry were going to hang out, just the two of them, and Louis couldn’t wait.

            Of course, since Louis’s body hated him, he woke up Saturday morning dizzy. Reluctantly, he ate an apple, fighting the urge to get rid of it immediately afterwards by reminding himself it was necessary in order to spend time with Harry. In order to make up for the extra meal, Louis tried on every single hoodie he owned and wore the biggest.

            “You look warm,” Harry commented when he arrived at Louis’s house so they could catch a cab and ride into town together.

            Louis smiled, choosing not to tell Harry that he was never warm.

            “What’s the plan for today?” Louis asked as they climbed into the taxi.

            “I’m not exactly sure,” Harry admitted. “Have you ever been ice skating?”

            “I have not.”

            “Would you like to? I know this one really nice indoor skating place that’s open year-round.”

            “Well, sure, Harry, but when I end up killing meself, will you come to my funeral?”

            “I won’t let you get hurt,” Harry assured him with a smile. “I’m basically a professional.”

            “Basically.”

            “Yes.”

            “Okay,” Louis agreed, sure that, despite Harry’s words, he would be leaving with at least one broken bone.

            Harry stayed true to his word, though. He tied up Louis’s skates nice and tight, making sure he felt secure. As they entered the ice, Harry kept ahold of both of Louis’s hands.

            “Ooh, maybe you’re not so warm,” Harry said at the contact. “Your hands are freezing.”

            “I’m okay,” Louis said, but Harry took it upon himself to rub them himself, trying to warm them with the friction from his own hands. Louis did feel quite hot for a few moments.

            Ice skating, Louis learned, was not something he was going to pick up quickly, but Harry was patient, not letting go of him once until Louis felt he was ready. Even then, he stayed close by, saving Louis from peril multiple times.

            “I’m sorry I was so terrible,” Louis apologized once the two finally decided to call it quits and headed off the ice.

            “You’re not terrible. You’re a beginner,” Harry said. “And as long as you had fun, that’s all that matters.”

            “I did,” Louis admitted. “Did you?”

            “Lots.”

            The boys sat to put their shoes on, and Louis’s legs cried in relief. Louis hadn’t lied; he did have fun, but it definitely had been a work out, and he was dizzy again.

            “Do you want to get some lunch?” Harry asked, and though Louis really didn’t, he agreed, not sure how long he would be functional if he didn’t eat something.

            At the restaurant, Louis ordered one of the low calorie sandwich options, but still chose to remove the top piece of bread and eat the rest with his fork. It made sense to him before he saw Harry shoving his own sandwich into his mouth with his hands, all the bread still attached, but if Harry thought of Louis’s behavior as strange, he didn’t give any indication.

            Despite all the effort he’d put into making his meal acceptable for both his body and his mind, once he’d finished (having only eaten half), Louis felt bloated and gross. He was just about to excuse himself to go to the restroom when Harry said,

            “Alright, I’m finished. Are you ready?”

            So Louis said he was because he couldn’t really go purge while Harry was sitting there just waiting for him, counting how long it took him. Even though Louis’s mind was screaming, he followed Harry back outside, glancing guiltily towards the bathroom and silently apologizing to his stomach before leaving.

            Since it was early and the boys weren’t quite ready to say goodbye, Louis went over to Harry’s. No one else was home, but all they did was watch a couple of movies, Harry sitting just close enough on the couch for their knees to touch.

            Once the second movie was over, the boys reluctantly decided it was probably time to call it a day. Harry walked Louis home. They were quiet at first, a tension Louis couldn’t quite place settling between them, but once Harry side-stepped his way closer to Louis and knocked their hands together gently before intertwining their fingers, the tension was gone and they both smiled at each other, cheeks turning pink.

            Louis was screaming on the inside, this time for good things.

            He was still smiling as he entered his house and just barely resisted the urge to lean against the door and sigh dreamily.

            “Louis!” he heard his mother call from the kitchen. “Can you come in here, please?”

            Louis’s smile faded a little then, the smell of food wafting into his nostrils as he made his way to the kitchen.

            “I made dinner,” the woman said, though she had no plate in front of her. She was sat at the table, hands laced together as she stared at Louis in a way that made him extremely nervous.

            “I just ate with Harry,” the teen told her, and he had, not too terribly long ago.

            “Alright, well will you sit down and talk to me for a few minutes, please?”

            “About what?” Louis asked, growing more anxious by the second.

            “Please, Louis.”

            Slowly, Louis pulled out the chair across from his mom and lowered himself into it.

            “Thank you. What did you and Harry do today?”

            “Um, we went ice skating and then ate lunch, then watched a couple movies…”

            “Did you have fun?”

            “Yeah…but what did you want to talk to me about, mum?”

            “Alright,” she sighed, twisting her hands, clearly anxious. “Liam and Niall came to visit me today.”

            “Okay…?”

            “They wanted to talk about you.”

            Louis’s head spun.

            “What about me?”

            “They’re worried about you, Louis. They said you’re not eating.”

            “That’s a lie! I eat!”

            “Let me correct that. They said you eat sometimes, but then you…Louis, baby, they said you make yourself sick. Is that true?”

            “Of course not! I told them I just haven’t felt well lately and they don’t believe me!”

            “If you’re still sick, we need to take you to the doctor.”

            Louis could tell his mom was trying her best to remain calm, but the quiver in her voice gave away how she was really feeling. _Shit_. Louis had been dying for her attention for so long, but not like this.

            “I’m fine,” he told her, voice soft as he reached across the table to take her hand. At his touch, the woman burst into tears.

            “No, Louis, you’re not okay, and I can’t believe I didn’t figure out what was going on. I knew something was wrong, but not this…never this.”

            “But nothing is going on, mum,” Louis tried again. “It’s just a misunderstanding.”

            Remaining quiet, Louis’s mom gently held onto her son’s wrist, examining his writing hand carefully, but for what, Louis didn’t know. Finally, her eyes lingered on the two fingers Louis used to make himself throw up when it was necessary and Louis sucked in a breath. There was no way she could tell what he did just from looking at his hands…right?

            “Your poor little knuckles are calloused, baby,” she said, voice cracking again as more tears slid down her face. “Why are you doing this?”

            “I’m not,” Louis denied once more, but his voice sounded fake even to himself.

            “Louis, please.”

            The teenager hesitated before sighing.

            “I don’t know, but I’m sorry. I’ll stop, it’s no big deal.”

            “I think you know it won’t be that easy, Lou. You need help.”

            “I have you and Liam and Niall.”

            “No, you need professional help.”

            “No I don’t!”

            “What’s so bad about therapy? It doesn’t mean you’re crazy. It’s just like seeing the regular doctor.”

            “Is not, and we don’t have the money for me to go to a stupid shrink.”

            “You let me worry about the money, okay? Now, the boys and I did some research and found this really great facility in London-”

            “We can’t go to London every time I have a session,” Louis pointed out, looking at his mom like she had lost her mind. She fidgeted nervously.

            “Well, no, I know that, love. It’s a…It’s an in-patient facility.”

            “Like a rehab?! You’re going to lock me away with alcoholics and drug addicts and crazy people?!”

            “No, darling, you’ll be with other kids around your age that suffer from the same or similar problems.”

            “No. I’m not going.”

            “Yes you are, Louis. You need someone who can be there for you 24/7. As much as I would love to keep you home and heal you myself, I don’t have the time nor the skills or education to give you what you need. You will get better there, and you’ll only be gone for a short amount of time. In a few months, it will be like this never happened at all.”

            “A few months?!”

            “You’re not going to be better overnight.”

            “Mum, don’t make me do this,” Louis pleaded, bringing on the water works as a last resort (and because he was legitimately terrified, but he would never admit that). “I _can_ get better myself, I promise! I haven’t even purged all day today and I ate this morning, then again with Harry! You can ask him if you don’t believe me!”

            “I believe you, but I don’t believe that you wouldn’t have made yourself sick if you’d had the opportunity.”

            Louis huffed. Why couldn’t she have faith in him? He didn’t need a doctor. He wasn’t sick.

            “You just want to send me away, don’t you?” he asked, voice much more childish than he had intended. With a small, broken sob, the woman got up from her chair and knelt beside the teen, pulling him tight into her arms. Louis was too tired to push her away.

            “I would _never_ want to send you away, Lou. You’re all I have.”

            It hit Louis then that this was a losing battle. He was being sent to rehab.

            “When am I leaving?” he asked.

            “The sooner the better, so tomorrow-”

            “No, not tomorrow!” Louis pleaded again, leaning back and staring at his mother through panicked eyes. “Not until after the dance, mum, please.”

            “The dance is still a week away, love, and you’re extremely malnourished as it is, you’ve got to be.”

            “But I’m going to the dance with Harry!”

            “There will be other dances for you two to go to together later in the year when you’re better.”

            “He’ll be tired of me by then! I’ll eat, mum, I’ll eat right now, but please…I like him so much and I’ve been waiting for him to notice me for, like, fifty years. _Please_.”

            It took a good while before Louis’s mom answered, her forehead wrinkled as she internally debated the situation. Louis barely breathed the entire time.

            “Fine,” she finally sighed. “But we’re leaving next Saturday, Louis, no arguments.”

            “Okay.”

            “And you’re eating dinner with me.”

            “Alright.”

            “Okay. And I don’t want to hear you step a foot into that bathroom for _at least_ an hour afterwards.”

            “Yes, mum, I get it!”

            “Alright.”

            So Louis did as he was told. He ate every bit of food his mom put onto his plate and went straight to his bedroom afterwards, bypassing the bathroom on his way.

            His mom didn’t say anything about throwing up into his trashcan, so he didn’t really break any rules.

            Though she tried to be quiet about it, wanting Louis to think she was still in the house, Louis heard his mother step outside for her evening smoke after about thirty minutes and he quickly cleaned up his mess. She never suspected a thing, and before going to bed, she gave Louis a hug and told him how proud she was of him.

            Louis figured he probably just secured his ticket to Hell.

 

            The plan had been for Louis to never talk to Liam and Niall again. They may have had his best interests at heart, but they had still betrayed him. He figured he would have to talk to them sometime, though, so decided to just break the ice that night as he couldn’t sleep anyway.

            _I hate you_ , he sent as individual texts to them both. He had barely locked his phone when it buzzed frantically.

            _I’m sorry, but we’re just scared_ _L_ , the one from Liam read. Niall’s said,

            _You know we love you, mate. We just wanted to help._

Louis ignored them both.

            Logging onto Facebook, which he barely did, as he didn’t care about most of the people on his friends list, nor did they care about him, Louis saw that he had three new friend requests; one from Zayn, one from Harry and even one from Doniya, who had already changed her profile picture to her and Niall. That was going well then.

            Shamelessly, Louis clicked on Harry’s icon to creep on his page. He smiled when he saw his status, updated thirty-one minutes ago and reading,

            _Greatest day ever! :D :D_

Louis liked it because it had been a good day up until he got home, but that wasn’t Harry’s fault.

            After less than a minute, Louis received a message form the person he’d just been stalking.

            _Hello!_ _:)_

Smiling despite the fact that he was also crying (when did that happen?) Louis replied back,

            _Hi :)_

_I just realized something._

_And what would that be?_

_I still don’t have your number :O_

Louis giggled to himself, though was half serious as he typed,

            _Would you like it?_

_If you would be so kind!_

Without hesitation, Louis gave it to him.

            _Thanks! I have to go, but I’ll text you soon!_

Soon apparently meant two minutes after he logged off because Louis then received a text from an unknown number.

            _Have a good night, Louis! Xxx_

Then, a moment later,

            _OMG, this is Harry, not some random creeper…I promise._

And then, before Louis had a chance to reply to either of those two messages, another one came through.

            _Was the Xxx weird? I’m sorry if it was. I’m a derp :/_

Giggling again, Louis sent back a simple,

            _Good night, Harry. X_

When he woke the next morning, he saw that he had received a smiley face.

 

            Louis tried to act normal at school that week, not wanting Harry to get suspicious or think he was weird, but it really wasn’t as hard as he’d imagined. Conversation with Liam and Niall was strained, so he really just talked to Harry, who had a way of making him laugh no matter how miserable he felt. Plus, he only ate the bare minimum he could get away with and wasn’t so secretive about purging anymore, only worried about hiding it from Harry and Zayn because the other two apparently didn’t trust him even when he was careful, so what was the point?

            The dance was the first time he felt normal in a while. Everyone went to Zayn’s to get ready, and it was basically a giggle fest as they all admired and drew amusement from each other’s costumes. Liam was Batman, as he always was, Zayn was a pirate, Doniya was a princess and Niall decided to be Prince Charming, which, okay. Louis and Harry, of course, kept their costumes as Peter Pan and a vampire.

            Transportation to the dance was through Zayn and the red sports car again, but this time, Louis chose to squeeze between Niall and Harry instead of smothering his date. He fit maybe a little too easily, but decided to not think about that.

            When the group was first inside the school and on the dance floor, they were all a bit insecure, but they soon discovered that not a single one of them could really dance and just went with it, laughing at themselves and each other. Louis forgot about the hunger and the tiredness; he forgot to be angry at his two best friends and he forgot what was waiting for him the next morning. He forgot he wasn’t supposed to drink the purple drink full of sugar that Harry brought him. He just forgot.

            Everyone else looked just as happy, and if they didn’t know better, they would have sworn someone spiked the punch.

            “There should have been a costume contest,” Liam commented, smiling as he spun Zayn ridiculously like a ballerina. “I bet Lou would have won.”

            “Isn’t he the most perfect Peter Pan?” Harry mused, standing behind Louis and wrapping his arms around his middle, resting his chin on top of the smaller guy’s head. For the first time, Louis didn’t curse his short legs.

            “I’m not the perfect Peter Pan,” Louis answered in a pouty voice. “I can’t fly.”

            “Who told you that?” Harry asked. Louis laughed a little.

            “Harry, I…I just can’t.”

            “Sure you can.”

            Before he knew what was happening, Harry had turned Louis around and lifted him into the air, spinning him in circles as Louis shrieked with both fear and enjoyment. He worried briefly that he was going to break Harry’s back or something, but Harry was beaming, not looking in the least bit of pain. It did kind of feel like he was flying.

“Dude. Teacher coming,” Zayn warned and Harry slowed, setting Louis’s feet on the ground, but holding him close.

            “You okay?” he asked as Louis gasped for breath through his too-wide grin, but Harry was still smiling too.

            “Yes, I’m good,” Louis assured him, gripping onto Harry’s shirt as his head spun.

            “Dizzy?” Harry asked through a laugh.

            “A bit.”

            Harry just kept smiling, leaning down to say directly in Louis’s ear, “Told you that you could fly.”

            “Only with you, though,” Louis replied and, wow, he did not mean to make it sound that cheesy, but Harry’s smile grew impossibly wider anyway.

            “I’ll help you fly anytime you want.”

            Louis’s smile grew too, then Harry’s grew again, and then Niall ruined it by ‘whispering’,

            “Do you think we should give them a moment?”

            “Ugh, Horan,” Louis groaned, stepping out of Harry’s arms. Niall smiled unapologetically.

            “YAY! They’re back. I’m hungry. TO THE COOKIE TABLE, LADS AND PRINCESS!”

            Zayn, Liam and Doniya obediently followed after the blond and, with an eye roll, Louis began to also, but then Harry grabbed gently onto his hand and Louis turned back to face him, tilting his head questioningly.

            “We don’t have to follow,” he said. “I mean, we can if you want, but I wouldn’t argue to having you to myself for a moment.”

            “I’d rather stay here,” Louis agreed. Harry smiled.

            “Perfect.”

            Placing his hands on Louis’s waist, Harry gently pulled him closer, the two beginning to sway together even though it wasn’t a slow song.

            “You’re so pretty, Lou,” Harry said, and Louis’s gaze flickered immediately to the floor, face suddenly hot over the intensity of Harry’s stare.

            “Hey,” Harry spoke again, gently, putting a finger under Louis’s chin to raise his head back up. “You are.”

            Their eyes were locked and Louis was speechless, but that was okay because soon, Harry was leaning forward and in the next instant, their lips were pressed together, moving slowly but wonderfully against each other. This could be it, Louis thought. This could be his happy ever after; his perfect ending, and he would be okay with it. His story could end right here, right now.

            But, of course, it didn’t, and way too soon, Louis was forced back to reality as the dance ended and Zayn drove him home.

            Everyone was quiet once back in the car, probably because they were tired, but Louis was wide awake, filled with fear and sadness over the fact that the night was almost over and then he would be forced to face tomorrow. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to leave Harry. Even if this…whatever they had, wasn’t going to last forever, Louis wasn’t ready for it to end right then.

            Liam and Niall were going to spend that night with Louis, but they stalled in the car saying goodbye to their dates as Harry walked Louis to the door.

            “Thank you so much for being my date,” he said, smiling down at Louis once they reached the doorstep.

            “It was my pleasure,” Louis assured him.

            “I’ll see you soon.”

            “Yeah,” Louis said with a swallow. He wanted so bad to tell Harry that he wouldn’t be in school on Monday; to beg him to please just wait for him, but this wasn’t a love story and he wasn’t a beautiful damsel in distress who simply had to go find herself, so he selfishly accepted another kiss from the other boy before watching him walk back to the car.

            Louis almost broke right then and there as he realized that the perfection of that one night would never happen again.

 

_Dear diary,_

_It wasn’t midnight but I got my kiss_

            _I’ll never forget the way my lips felt against his_

_But in the end I had to let him walk away_

_I guess it’s not like he would ever really want to stay anyway_

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to say that I wrote the outline for this chapter before the 'Night Changes' video came out. Apparently Harry just really likes ice skating dates ;)


	8. Chapter 8

            “Did you boys have fun at the dance?” Louis’s mom asked as he, Liam and Niall made their way inside, Louis’s throat burning with the tears that he was absolutely not going to shed.

            “Yeah, it was a lot of fun,” Liam answered while Louis ignored the question and went straight to his room. He took his pajamas into the bathroom to change, not wanting one of the boys to walk in on him despite the fact that they’d all already seen each other naked anyway. Liam and Louis used to bathe together when they were small, which Louis did not think was that weird until just now, but whatever.

            Louis took his time in the bathroom, studying himself in the mirror and continuing to fight off his tears. There was still so much flab, and he didn’t even want to think about how big he was going to be after rehab. Sadly, that was all he could think about.

            Liam and Niall were already changed and in Louis’s bed once he finally made his way back to his room. Silently, Louis crawled in between the two and they snuggled close, both of their arms firmly around Louis, who found it impossible to hold his tears in anymore.

            “I’m sorry!” he cried, burying his head into Liam’s chest. Their hold on him only grew tighter. “I’m so sorry about…about everything!”

            “We know,” Niall said, voice cracking, and Louis realized that they were both crying too.

 

            Louis’s mom tried desperately to get him to eat the next morning, but Louis muttered an angry, “But what’s the fucking point?” and she let it go, not even scolding him for his language.

            “Do you want us to ride down with you, Lou?” Niall asked as he picked at his own food.

            “Yes,” Louis answered after a moment. “I don’t think I’ll go in if you don’t.”

 

            Everyone was silent on the way to drop off Louis, besides the one time Louis decided to say,

            “I didn’t think my first trip to London would be for this.”

            “We’ll come back once you’re home,” Liam promised. Louis just sighed.

            By the time they reached the treatment facility, everyone was crying again except for Louis. He refused to cry in front of strangers who already thought he was broken.

            Liam and Niall stayed outside while Louis’s mom walked him in, but they didn’t let him go until they had each given him a hug, promising to visit whenever they could.

           “Be good, baby,” his mom told him before she departed.

            “Don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Louis asked, throwing himself onto what would be his bed for the next…however long he was imprisoned.

            Soon, Louis found out that he _did_ have a choice on whether to be good or not and he acted out, hoping they would give up on him and send him home. His intentions were apparently clear, though, because on the third day of him refusing to eat, make friends or talk in therapy, his main psychologist told him,

            “Louis, I know you want to go home, and I can’t wait until you’re healthy enough to get to that point, but it’s not going to happen until you cooperate with us. Your behavior is nothing we haven’t seen before and it’s nothing we can’t handle, and we are not releasing you until we feel you are ready, so it would be in your best interest to work with us.”

            After that, Louis began to eat and pretended to make friends. He talked to the therapists, though most of it was bullshit he made up. He knew what they wanted from him, but he wasn’t going to sit there and trash his mom. He wouldn’t tell people who just didn’t understand about her drinking or her inability to always control her temper because it wasn’t her fault, it was Louis’s, and nothing anyone could say would make him believe otherwise.

            Instead, Louis went on about the lack of a father figure in his life and how he felt like he could never be good enough if his own dad didn’t even want him. If that felt the least bit true, Louis would never admit it.

            He also told them about school and about Harry, though he didn’t mention any names. Somehow, they managed to link Harry to the absence of his dad, and that was weird, so Louis never mentioned him again.

            During his one-and-a-half month stay, Louis’s mom visited once, when she was required to come to a therapy session with him, but Liam and Niall visited every single weekend.

            “You know, Harry really wants to come see you,” Liam said, not for the first time, on the last weekend in November. At the time, Louis had been locked away for almost a month.

            “NO!” he exclaimed, also not for the first time. “Are you sure he doesn’t know where I am?”

            “He thinks you’re at a regular hospital,” Liam assured him.

            “And he doesn’t know why, right?”

            “We said it’s a serious digestive problem.”

            “Sexy,” Louis sighed.

            “He’s just worried about you, Lou,” Niall assured him. “We told him only family is allowed to visit, but he’s ready to sneak in. Why don’t you just tell him the truth and let him see you? He’s not going to care that you’re here. He’s only worried about you getting better.”

            “I am absolutely not going to tell Harry that I am in a house for nutters,” Louis said. “Do you seriously think he would still be at all interested in me if he knew I purposely throw up my food?”

            “Yes,” Liam said, seriously. “I do.”

            “Well, you’re wrong. Now please drop the subject. How are things with Doniya and Zayn?”

            As he suspected, the others’ relationships were going just fine. And they were actual relationships now. Like Facebook official and everything. Louis was happy for his friends, he really was, but he also kind of hated them still because maybe that could have been him too if he hadn’t been shipped away like a piece of unwanted mail. He had been sent away, though, and Louis assumed it was only a matter of time before Harry stopped asking about him and then forgot about him completely, but according to Liam and Niall, he asked for daily progress reports and also inquired as to when he would be allowed to visit. Louis wasn’t sure if they were lying to him or not, but it was nice to act like they weren’t.

 

            “Louis Tomlinson, you have a phone call,” the cheery female secretary spoke over the intercom and, sighing, Louis went to see who had decided to disturb his grand time of wallowing in self-pity. That day marked the one month mark of being stuck in the Hell hole and, though they kept telling him that he would be released soon if he kept progressing at the rate he was, Louis didn’t believe them, mainly because he didn’t feel like he was progressing. He was getting fatter, sure, but his insides were still a mess, and his stomach had bruises on it from squeezing the flab that grew day by day. (Luckily, one of his ‘friends’ there was a female with about the same skin tone as him and he used her make-up to cover the bruises so the staff never suspected a thing during his daily weigh-ins, in which he was not even allowed to see what the scale said.)

            “Hello?” Louis sighed into the phone.

            “Louis, hey!” Liam’s voice came through from the other end of the line. “What’s up?”

            “Oh, you know, just partying it up,” Louis answered, voice laced with sarcasm.

            “Good, good,” Liam replied, and Louis rolled his eyes. “Hey, I’m just chilling with Harry and he wants to say hi! I’m handing over the phone now.”

            “ _What_?! Liam, I can’t-”

            “Louis?!”

            It was Harry’s voice on the other end then, and Louis swallowed hard. Hearing the other’s voice shouldn’t make him this emotional, he was pretty sure.

            “Hi, Harry,” Louis said, tone softening up.

            “Oh my god, how are you?! I mean, I know not great, but are you feeling better? Like, at all?”

            “I’m getting there,” Louis lied, hoping to erase the worry from Harry’s voice. He had no reason to worry about him.

            “I wish I could see you.”

            “I know. I’m sorry.”

            “No, don’t you apologize for anything. I just miss you.”

            Oh god. The tears were coming. Louis turned his back, knowing he would be forced off the phone if anyone thought the call was upsetting him.

            “Miss you too,” he managed.

            “I know you can’t talk long, but I just wanted to say hi. Now get better so you can come back to me!”

            “I will,” Louis said through a watery laugh, not mentioning that Harry would probably have found someone else by then.

            “Have a good night, Louis.”

            “You too.”

 

            After that, Louis and Harry talked on the phone almost every night, Liam or Niall always connecting them so Harry wouldn’t find out that Louis wasn’t in the typical kind of hospital.

 

            “I’ll be back in school on Monday,” Louis said on the second Thursday in December. He had just gotten the news that he would be released that weekend, and he wasn’t sure why he had to go back to school when it was the last week of the semester, but he was kind of ready for life to go back to normal anyway.

            At his words, Harry literally dropped the phone.

            “Seriously?!” he asked once he’d retrieved it again.

            “Yeah,” Louis said with a smile. “I’m going home Sunday.”

            “That’s great, Louis! So you feel okay then? They found out what was wrong and fixed you all up?”

            “I’m fine,” was all Louis chose to answer.

            “I can’t wait to see you,” Harry said.

 

            Once at school that Monday, though, Louis did not see Harry, as he was absent. Part of Louis thought the guy was avoiding him, although he tried to tell himself that was illogical.

            At lunch, the other three boys took turns hugging Louis tightly and Louis found the fact that they didn’t touch him like he was breakable as a testament to how huge he had gotten.

            “Man, Haz is so pissed he couldn’t come today,” Zayn said, smiling as he watched Louis unpack the lunch he had packed specifically from the list of ‘recovery meal plans’ the rehab had sent home with him.

            “Where is he?” Louis asked, trying to sound nonchalant as he ripped a piece of his sandwich off and studied it before putting it in his mouth.

            “Home sick. He was projectile vomiting all weekend. It was gross,” Zayn said, though he didn’t actually seem too bothered by it. “He was going to come today anyway, but didn’t want to make you sick again and all.”

            “No, yeah, he should just rest,” Louis agreed, continuing to slowly pick apart his lunch.

            During the next period, which Louis should have had with Harry, he received a text from the other boy.

            _My body hates me! :(_ _I had one-and-a-half months to be sick and my body chose now! Whyyyyy?!_

 _It’s okay,_ Louis replied, discreetly hiding his phone halfway under his desk. _I can bring your homework to you if you want._

 _Nooo_ , Harry replied before sending, _You just got better. I’m not making you sick again._

Louis dropped it at that, figuring Harry just didn’t want to see him.

 

            “You’re an idiot,” Liam said when Louis voiced that opinion out loud the next day. Harry still wasn’t back. “Take his work to him,” Liam continued.

            “He doesn’t want me to.”

            “Louis. Just do it.”

            So, reluctantly, Louis, with the help of Zayn, gathered all the work Harry had missed, and that was how Louis found himself outside of Harry’s house that Tuesday, Zayn having dropped him off before Louis assured him he would be fine just walking home.

            Nervously, Louis rang the doorbell and, soon, a woman who looked a lot like Harry (in older, female version, of course) opened the door, kind smile on her face.

            “Hello!” she greeted, and Louis gave her a nervous smile.

            “Hi. I’m…a friend of Harry’s from school. I have his work…”

            The woman, who Louis assumed was Harry’s mother, opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, another voice called out Louis’s name, and a second later Harry was at the door, wide smile on his face.

            “Right. Well I’ll just leave you two to that. It was nice to briefly meet you, Louis,” Harry’s mom said, a bit of an amused look on her face.

            “You too,” Louis said politely before the woman smiled and walked away.

            “I’m so happy to see you!” Harry said. “But you really shouldn’t be here. What if you get sick?”

            “If that’s what you look like when you’re sick, I’m insanely jealous,” Louis said before he could stop himself. Harry laughed, a light blush suddenly coloring his cheeks.

            “I’m actually better now, I think, but I wanted to take an extra day to be sure. I don’t want to be the reason you’re hospitalized again.”

          Louis shifted awkwardly, choosing to not reply to that.

        “Here’s your work.”

        “Oh, thank you.” Harry took the stack of papers and set them on the coffee table, saying over his shoulder,

       “If you’re already here, breathing my germs, I suppose it wouldn’t cause any more harm to invite you in.”

       “Oh. Okay.”

       Louis stepped inside, closing the door behind him and bouncing a little. Harry’s house was slightly bigger than his, and much more decorated. It was nice. It felt homey.

        “You look amazing,” Harry spoke again, and Louis’s gaze went back to the other boy, who was still smiling at him. “I mean, you always looked great, but you just…Do you feel better?”

       “I’m fine,” Louis said. Harry nodded. The two were quiet before Louis said,

       “I should probably go. My mum is expecting me.”

        It was kind of a lie. Louis’s mom had barely acknowledged his existence since he got home, but if Harry wasn’t feeling well, hanging out with Louis was probably the last thing he wanted.

       “Oh, okay. Yeah. I’ll be back at school tomorrow, though, so I’ll see you then.”

        “Sounds great.”

        With a small smile, Louis hurried out the door and back home where he choked down one of his recommended afternoon snacks and lay in bed, already dreading dinner.

 

       True to his word, Harry was at school the next day and he sat next to Louis in both classes (rather confusing the person who normally sat next to him in second). It was nice, and Louis started to relax for the first time since he’d been home.

        Then, on Thursday, Louis woke up with the flu.

       Louis knew it probably wasn’t Harry’s fault. The flu was going around and he had weakened his immune system during his diet, so it really wasn’t a surprise at all that he got sick.

 _Your boyfriend is drowning in guilt, help us_ , Louis received as a text from Liam at the time when he knew they would all be at lunch.

 _He’s not my boyfriend_ , Louis replied, but to Harry, sent, _You’re being ridiculous._

       All he got in reply was a couple of emojis, one a frown and the other a rose.

       Louis didn’t really mind having the flu anyway. Yes, he felt terrible, but it gave him an excuse not to eat much, banishing the full feeling he’d had for so long now, and it also felt good to throw up again.

        Like Harry, Louis’s flu lasted a while, but once it was finally gone, Louis was surprised by how much better he felt, physically and mentally. He’d managed to lose five pounds and, for the first time in a while, he felt healthy.

         Five pounds was good, Louis realized. Five pounds was what he should have stuck with to begin with, but no matter. He wasn’t going to let himself gain the five pounds back, but he wouldn’t let himself lose much more either. He wouldn’t relapse. He just had to cut back a tiny bit so he wouldn’t blow up like a balloon again. That was all.

 

_Dear diary_

_I think I’m finally okay_

_I think this is how I’m supposed to be_

_I think I’m alive_

_And I think that maybe I won’t need you anymore_

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter is long. Sorry about that.

            On Saturday, Louis received a text from Zayn inviting him to his end-of-semester party the following Tuesday, the twenty-third. Louis assured him he would be there, as he had nothing better to do and was going stir crazy as it was. Besides, it would be nice to hang out with the boys and Doniya again, even if Louis was still trying to find his place within the group again, amongst the couples and Harry.

 

            Niall’s mom drove him, Louis and Liam to the party once the day finally arrived and the three walked straight in without a knock, as Zayn had instructed them to do. They stood in the doorway for a few moments, looking for a familiar face in the crowd of people. They hadn’t expected it to be this packed, though they guessed they should have figured. 

            “Um…should I text him?” Liam asked, shouting to be heard over the blaring music.

            “Nah, just push through people until we find him or Doniya or _somebody_ ,” Niall said. “We can get away with it. You’re his boyfriend.”

            Liam was clearly uncomfortable with the idea-he never liked to be in peoples’ way, let alone push them out of _his_ _own_ way-but, luckily, they were saved as a voice shouted from the top of the stairs,

            “Louis!”

            In a matter of seconds, Louis’s arms were full of Harry. He was glad he wasn’t facing his friends, sure their faces would be stupidly smug or something.

            “Hey, Harry,” Louis said, and Harry pulled back to smile at him, not saying anything until he took Louis’s hand and turned to the other two.

            “Zayn and Doniya are in the kitchen, I think. Come on.”

            With Harry by their side (and he was still holding Louis’s hand; an early Christmas miracle), the other party guests all parted to let them through, and Louis again admired just how Harry had _everyone_ wrapped around his finger when it appeared he wasn’t even trying.

            “MY LOVE!” Zayn shouted dramatically when he saw them all, particularly Liam, who he pulled into a kiss. It was kind of a weird sight to Louis. Before he left, Liam had barely managed to make a full conversation with the other boy, and now he was openly letting him smooch his face off. A tiny bit of sadness crept into him as he pondered just how much he had missed.

            “You two are gross,” Doniya commented once the kissing had gone on for a good half a minute. “Since my brother is being rude, plates are over on that counter. Help yourself to whatever, if you’re hungry.”

            “If? Don’t you know me at all?” Niall teased before darting quickly away to gather his food. Doniya rolled her eyes, a fond smile on her face. After kissing Zayn a few more times, Liam went to fix a plate as well.

            “Lou?” Harry asked, and Louis shook his head, making sure to smile.

            “I can’t. I have a special list I have to eat off of…”

            Although that wasn’t 100% true, as his list was just a guideline now that he was a ‘recovered anorexic’, and there were plenty of items from that list available anyway, Louis used it as an excuse anyway because he thought it sounded better than saying he had cut out snacking and wouldn’t let himself eat except for at his designated meal times. Liam and Niall looked at him suspiciously as it was, but didn’t say anything.

            “There’s nothing you can eat here?” Zayn asked, looking legitimately worried. “Shit, man, I’m sorry. I’ll run to the store. What are you allowed to have?”

            “No, no, I’m fine, really,” Louis assured him quickly. “I’m not hungry anyway right now.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “Positive.”

            “Alright…”

            With that, the subject was dropped, but the tension Louis felt remained. He hadn’t relapsed, and therefore had nothing to feel bad about, but he still did for some reason.

            Whether Harry could sense the tension or not, Louis wasn’t sure, but Harry remained at his side pretty much the entire evening, almost always touching his hand or arm, and it did help, a little. Still, he couldn’t help but accept a drink that he was far too young to be drinking once Zayn offered it to him later. (Again, Louis decided to not question how he managed that…or where his parents ever were, but whatever. He really had not room to talk on that last point). Harry was in the bathroom, and he wasn’t gone long, but Louis still managed to be on his third drink when he returned, cupcake in hand. Louis was already slightly buzzed, curled up on Zayn’s couch in the one room that was practically abandoned, just realizing that the others had disappeared. Whatever.

            “That’s on your list?” Harry asked eying the drink as he took a seat next to Louis, who dizzily sat up straighter.

            “There’s no list,” Louis said with a giggle, and one of Harry’s eyebrows quirked up.

            “Then why did you say there was?”

            “Well, I mean, there _is_ a list, but I don’t _have_ to follow it. I’m just on a diet.”

            “A diet,” Harry repeated.

            “Yes, a diet. A stupid, harmless diet.”

            “The holidays are no time for diets, Louis,” Harry said, holding his cupcake out in front of the other boy. “Take a bite.”

            Louis wasn’t going to-that single cupcake probably had more calories than his normal lunch-but Harry had a dab of icing on his lip and it looked really appealing, so Louis took a bite in order to stop himself from kissing that bit from Harry’s lip. Harry smiled.

            “There you go. Here, you can have it.”

            “No, I do not want that whole thing!” Louis exclaimed, glaring at the sweet like it had personally wronged him.

            “Well, can you at least hold it for me while I go get a drink? Please?”

            After hesitating-it was a set-up, it had to be-Louis accepted the cupcake, wrinkling his nose at it as the delicious red icing mocked him from right under his nose.

            “Thank you,” Harry spoke as he stood. “I’ll be right back. Would you like anything?”

            Louis shook his head, still not removing his eyes from the mortal enemy in his hands.

            “You can eat it, you know,” Harry tried again. “In fact, it wants you to eat it."

            “I’m sure it does,” Louis scoffed. “It wants to turn me into an elephant.”

            “I don’t think people can turn into elephants, actually.”

            Louis then moved his glare from the cupcake to Harry, who looked rather pleased with his stupid joke. Louis couldn’t help but smile, and Harry beamed back before muttering out of the side of his mouth, in a ridiculously fake, high-pitched voice, “Eat me, Louis! Eat me! I’m so chocolatey and yummy! Eeeeaaat meeeee!”

            “I hope you don’t dream of being a ventriloquist,” Louis said to Harry as he took another bite from the apparent talking cupcake. Harry snorted with laughter.

            “Actually, that was my dream,” he said, trying and failing at looking and sounding serious. “You just shattered the only thing I was living for and I must go drown my sorrows in alcohol now.”

            “I’m so sorry,” Louis apologized sarcastically. “You go do that and I’ll just be sitting here with the talking calorie cake.”

            “The cupcake better be gone by the time I’m ba-ack!’ Harry called in a sing-song voice as he walked away. Louis shook his head and, once he’d managed to stop smiling so much, he finished off the dessert with only a moment’s hesitation. It really w _as_ delicious. Louis had forgotten just how good sweets tasted.

            Once the cupcake was gone, Louis did feel just a bit nauseous, but figured that could be from the alcohol. Though he didn’t like to admit it, he wasn’t the best when it came to handling booze. He didn’t feel terrible, though, and he hummed happily to himself as he waited for Harry’s return. Hours passed (okay, it was, like, four minutes, but it felt like hours to Louis) with no sign of Harry and, getting antsy, Louis decided to go look for him.

            He really shouldn’t have, he realized, once he saw Harry in the kitchen, back against the refrigerator as some tall blonde guy spoke into his ear, hand on Harry’s slim little waist, and Harry beamed, looking absolutely delighted by whatever the stranger was saying. Louis felt more nauseous, and although he didn’t think he was going to actually get sick, he found the closest bathroom and locked himself in, everything about the party suddenly too much.

            After a couple minutes of Louis sitting on the bathroom floor, head between his knees as tears stung his eyes, the nausea started to pass. Louis was still uncomfortable, though, because as it passed, he became more aware of all the sugar from the drinks and food he’d had just sitting in his stomach, turning his newly decent body to mush, ruining everything he had worked on.

            Before Louis could really comprehend what he was doing, he had thrown open the toilet lid and was leaning over on his knees, two fingers down his throat. Although it had been a while since he had done this, it took only a few seconds for a quiet cough to come before everything he had ingested that night was coming back up into the toilet bowl.

            After finishing, flushing the toilet, washing his hands, rinsing his mouth out and popping a breath mint, Louis wiped his wet eyes angrily and, once he felt a bit more composed, he exited the bathroom, jumping when he found himself facing Harry, whose fist was up in the air like he was about to knock on the door. Suddenly, a flash of not-so-distant memories came flooding back to Louis; Niall catching him purging in the bathroom of the pizza parlor, his mother’s face when she told him she was sending him away, his therapists pretending they had a clue what was going on in his head…

            But if Harry had any clue as to what happened in Zayn’s bathroom just now, he didn’t show it.

            “There you are,” he said putting an arm around Louis’s shoulders as he led him away. “You alright?”

            “Yeah,” Louis assured him. “Just had to wee.”

            Harry gave him a smile and they kept wandering until they found the others. Slowly, Louis remembered how to breathe again.

 

            It was just the six of them lying on the floor of Zayn’s bedroom, where they had escaped to as the first bits of alcohol started to fade, when, during a break in which Zayn’s Ipod was switching songs downstairs, they heard a clock chime from somewhere off in the distance. Sleepily, Liam turned to look at the alarm clock on Zayn’s nightstand before jumping up excitedly, Zayn’s hand falling limp to the ground as he sat up halfway and stared at his boyfriend.

            “Li?”

            “It’s midnight!” Liam exclaimed.

            “Yeah…? So what, are you Cinderella or something? Are you going to turn into a pumpkin?”

            “No, silly,” Liam said, clearly amused. “It’s Christmas Eve!”

            “Oh,” Zayn sighed, lying back down. “That’s exciting, I guess…”

            “It is,” Niall agreed, “but more importantly, it’s Louis’s birthday!”

            “YAAAAAY!” Liam yelled, running over to curl himself around Louis’s body. “Happy birthday, Louis!”

            “Happy birthday, bro,” Niall added, going up to hug Louis from behind.

            “Thanks, guys…,” Louis said, blushing a bit as the other threes’ eyes bore into him.

            “It’s your birthday?” Harry verified. Louis nodded.

            “Yes, it is.”

            “Are you…fifteen?”

            “Yep.”

            Smiling, Harry stood offering a hand to Louis, who took it after giving a curious look.

            “Where are we going?” Louis asked as Harry pulled him off the floor, forcing Niall and Liam off of him, and led him out the door.

            “Just downstairs,” Harry promised. They all followed without any more interrogation.

            Once downstairs, Harry turned off the stereo, causing everyone to turn, half worried and half angry at whatever caused the disruption.

            “Hello, everybody!” Harry greeted, raising his voice to be heard. He received several ‘hellos’ in response. “Today is a special occasion,” Harry continued, and Louis fidgeted nervously by his side, wondering what he was up to. After flashing him a quick smile, one just for him, Harry turned back to his curious audience.

            “It’s Louis’s birthday!” Harry exclaimed, and if Louis’s face wasn’t red before, it certainly was now as Harry, still with a firm grip on his hand, lifted their arms into the air. There were a few ‘happy birthdays’, but Harry wasn’t done yet.

            “On the count of three, I want you all to sing ‘happy birthday’ to him! Ready? One…two…three…”

            Louis expected dead silence, but, obediently, the entire party went along with the song, and Louis shrunk closer to Harry, embarrassed.

            “Why?” he muttered so only he could hear. Harry giggled, turning his own head so he could kiss the top of Louis’s.

            “Cuz you deserve it,” he answered simply. Louis smiled, happy despite his embarrassment until he looked out at the singing people and made eye contact with the guy Harry had been with earlier. He was just staring, eyes narrowed at Louis, not singing a single word. Louis swallowed and nuzzled closer to Harry, not sure at that point exactly what he wanted with him-or the blonde guy.

 

            The group crashed at Zayn and Doniya’s that night and woke just in time to make it to McDonald’s for breakfast, all of them needing it desperately, having resumed drinking after the ‘happy birthday’ song.

            Harry was the last to order besides Louis, and after telling the cashier what he wanted, he waved the younger guy over.

            “What do you want?” he asked him once Louis was at his side. “I’m buying. You can consider it a birthday present to you.”

            “Oh, I’m fine, Harry, thanks,” Louis said, picking at his jeans nervously. Harry frowned.

            “You need food, Lou.”

            “I’ll get something at home.”

            Harry studied his face for an uncomfortably long time before sighing his ‘okay’ and paying for his own.

            When Louis got home, his mom greeted him with a simple hello, apparently having forgotten it was his birthday, like she did every year. Louis didn’t know how it was that hard to remember, as his birthday was legitimately a holiday, but he was used to it by now. She’d remember eventually.

            Louis spent the rest of the morning and afternoon in bed, going in and out of sleep. At precisely five o’clock, his phone vibrated on his nightstand, waking him for the last time.

            _I hope your b-day is going great X_ , a text from Harry read. Louis replied,

            _It’s alright. Not rly doing anything._

_Nothing?_

_Nope._

_Well, that’s poopy._

Louis snorted then because _poopy_ , really? Who even said that? And why did he find it so endearing?

Harry texted him again, _Do you want to go to the movies?_

_It’s X-mas Eve. Don’t you have plans?_

_Nope_ _:)_

_Ok, sounds good then_

_Great. We’ll pick you up in about 20 mins and wing it from there_

            Louis had assumed, at the word ‘we’, that Harry was still with the other boys and Doniya and that they would be joining them, but ‘we’ apparently just meant Harry and his mom, who dropped them off at the cinema before leaving again. So it was just Louis and Harry. Louis actually was maybe a little too happy about that.

            “Do you want popcorn or anything?” Harry asked once he had purchased their tickets to some comedy neither had even heard of before.

            “No, thank you,” Louis replied without even pondering it.

            “Your diet?” Harry asked, an unrecognizable tone in his voice.

            “No,” Louis lied easily. “I ate right before you text me.”

            It took a minute for Louis to realize that he actually hadn’t eaten all day. Oh well. He really wasn’t hungry anyway.

            The movie ended up being pretty good, Louis thought, although he couldn’t quite be sure because about a quarter of the way into it, Harry took his hand and Louis kind of lost focus after that.

 

            When Louis arrived home again, his mom had remembered what day it was and let him open one of his Christmas presents, though she swore it was just a birthday present, despite the snowman wrapping paper. It was nice, though, and Louis decided it was probably one of the best birthdays he’d had for a while.

 

            The next day, Christmas day, Louis woke up at nine in the morning, typical for a day he didn’t have school, and saw that Harry had text him at 6:01 AM, saying, _HAPPY X-MAS!!!! :D :D!!!!_

 _You’re totally one of those five-year-olds who wakes before the sun to open your presents, aren’t you?_ , Louis messaged him with a small smile on his face.

            Though it had been three hours since Harry’s original text, it only took a minute for him to reply.

            _I have no idea what you’re talking about ;)_

Louis huffed out a laugh, sending a quick smiley face before placing his phone into the pocket of the hoodie he’d fallen asleep in and going to find his mom, who was sitting on the couch drinking her coffee.

            “Good morning,” she greeted with a smile. “Presents or breakfast first?”

            “Presents,” Louis answered, not in the mood to eat just yet, as he dove under the tree to pull out the couple of gifts he had gotten her.

            Luckily, by the time the presents had been unwrapped, the gifts inside studied and toyed around with and the wrapping paper thrown out, Louis’s mom had forgotten all about breakfast and went to get her shower. Louis took that time to check his phone again and was genuinely surprised when he saw that he had another text from Harry.

            _Soooo I know it’s Christmas and all, but if you’re not happening to do anything, you can come over here. Just if you want to…_

Though the offer made Louis smile and he wanted to accept, he had to politely decline, saying that it was rare for his mom to get a Christmas off, so he should just spend the day with her, which was true.

            It was a while before Louis actually saw her again, though, and when the woman finally emerged from the bathroom, she was dressed in fancy clothes and flashy jewelry, something Louis found a little unnecessary for a Christmas day at home.

            “Going somewhere?” he asked, feeling like he already knew the answer (and refusing to believe that it felt a lot like disappointment.)

            “Oh, yeah, I’m going out with a…with a friend. I know it’s Christmas, but I’m sure Liam and Geoff would love to have you over! Why don’t you give them a call?”

            “Yeah, okay,” Louis said, holding in a sigh. “I’ll be fine.”

            “No, I’m serious, baby. You shouldn’t be alone on Christmas.”

            “I won’t. It’s cool, mum,” Louis said, already getting out his phone to ask Harry if he would still like his company.

            “Okay. Good. I’ll see you later, alright?”

            “Yep.”

            After smacking a kiss on her son’s forehead, Louis’s mom left and Louis dragged himself off the couch to get a shower. He was excited to get to see Harry again, honestly. He didn’t know why he felt a little sad too.

            Of course, Harry could already have made other plans, Louis knew. He could still end up spending Christmas alone because he wasn’t going to just invite himself to Liam’s or anywhere else.

            However, by the time he’d gotten out of the shower, Harry had replied with,

            _Of course!!! :D_

 _Okay, be there soon,_ Louis sent back and, after getting dressed and fixing his hair, he headed out, trying not to think about the fact that it was pretty much a blizzard outside as he walked to Harry’s.

            Harry’s mom, Anne, as she’d told Louis to call her yesterday, opened the door with a smile, but the smile quickly faded when she saw Louis basically buried alive in snow and freezing.

            “Oh my goodness, sweetheart!” she exclaimed, pulling him inside gently by the shoulders and quickly helping him to remove his wet coat. “Did you walk all the way here?!”

            “Y-yeah,” Louis stammered, clenching his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering.

            “We could have picked you up,” Anne told him, rubbing his shoulders in a very motherly manner, and Louis couldn’t help but smile at her, a chill making his whole body tremble.

            “Come with me to the kitchen,” Anne spoke again. “I’ll get you some hot tea. Harry will be down in a couple minutes. He’s just finishing up something.”

            Obediently, Louis followed the woman to the kitchen, where she told him to sit before setting a cup of hot tea and a couple of Christmas cookies in front of him. Louis’s stomach dropped and he almost had a panic attack as he picked up the first cookie and began to eat, knowing he couldn’t be rude to Anne. She distracted him from it a little by keeping up light, pleasant conversation, and Louis was on his second cookie by the time Harry skipped-yes, skipped-into the kitchen.

            “Hello!” Harry greeted excitedly, smacking a kiss right on Louis’s cheek before setting a carefully wrapped gift in front of him. “Happy Christmas! Again!”

            “I didn’t know we were exchanging presents,” Louis said, feeling bad as he examined the package in front of him.

            “I know, and we weren’t,” Harry said, pulling one of the kitchen chairs closer to Louis before sitting down in it. “But it’s technically your birthday _and_ Christmas, and I just wanted to. Don’t open it until you get home though.”

            “Okay,” Louis said, though he had no idea why Harry would request that. “Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome.”

            “Alright, kiddos,” Anne spoke up, standing from her chair. “I have to go pick Gemma up from the station, but I’ll be back. That last batch of cookies should be cool now, so, Harry, if you could be a dear and ice them, that would be lovely.”

            “Sure, mum.”

            “Thank you. You boys have fun and don’t get into too much trouble, you understand?”

            “We’ll be perfect little Christmas angels,” Harry promised with an ornery grin.

            “Oh, Lord, help me,” Anne sighed before ruffling Harry’s hair and saying goodbye to Louis.

            Once she was gone, Harry turned back to Louis, gently placing a hand on his cheek and stroking the slowly warming skin before leaning over and kissing the boy’s lips softly and slowly. Louis closed his eyes immediately, melting into the kiss. He didn’t think it was possible, but this one felt just as good as the one they shared at the dance. Louis’s heart fluttered and he just barely managed to stifle a giggle, elated. He hadn’t expected to ever feel this again.

            “I missed you,” Harry spoke softly once he and Louis had broken apart, his hand still on the other’s cheek.

            “I’ve been here,” Louis said, tilting his head into Harry’s touch. His hands were so warm, and just the right mix of smooth and rough.

            “Yeah,” Harry replied. “Still missed you though.”

            By some Christmas miracle, Harry decided to kiss Louis again before leaning back in his chair and saying,

            “So, do you want to help me decorate these cookies?”

            Louis agreed, and though the sight and smell of the sugary calories made Louis feel a bit sick, knowing he had some of it just sitting inside of him, he still had fun. He and Harry got more icing on each other than the actual cookies, and several ended up broken, but neither stopped laughing the entire time. Both Louis’s face and stomach hurt, but it felt amazing.

            “Quick,” Harry spoke through a giggle after they’d finished and pitched the now-empty icing container, “we have to hide the evidence of our shenanigans.”

            Picking up a piece of broken cookie, Harry shoved it into his mouth before holding a bit out for Louis to do the same.

            “I ate two when I first got here,” Louis told him, leaning away a bit, but still smiling.

            “Eat it, Louis! Harry exclaimed, lunging forward and beginning to tickle Louis’s side. With a shriek, Louis fell to his knees, Harry catching him halfway to the ground and laying him down gently before continuing his tickle session.

            “Harry-stop!” Louis panted through his hysterical laughter. “Can’t-breathe!”

            “I will stop on one condition,” Harry compromised. “Eat the cookie.”

            “Harry, I don’t –want-the-damn-cookie!”

            “Why not?” Harry asked. He’d stopped tickling Louis, but was now straddling him right there on the kitchen floor, being careful not to put his full weight on him.

            “I just don’t want it,” Louis said, slowly starting to catch his breath and looking up at Harry with the most innocent eyes he could manage to put on.

            “Is it because it’s broken?” Harry asked. “Because broken is still beautiful, Louis.”

            The tone in Harry’s voice made Louis think that maybe they weren’t talking about cookies anymore, and Louis’s breath caught in his throat.

            “I actually prefer things to be a little out of the ordinary,” Harry continued. “It makes them unique. It makes them stand out. In their imperfections, they are more perfect than anything.”

            For a while, Louis and Harry stared at each other. Then, finally, Louis pulled himself together and said,

            “You have some deep thoughts about cookies, Styles.”

            “I do,” Harry admitted with a smile, leaning down to kiss Louis’s nose before hopping up and helping the other teen stand as well. “With that being said, my feelings will be hurt if you do not eat this cookie.”

            With a roll of his eyes, Louis grabbed a broken piece of one of the sugar stars and popped it into his mouth, ignoring the way his stomach muscles clenched up as he did so.

            “Yay!” Harry said, grabbing another bite for himself. In that moment, Louis was pretty sure he loved him.

 

            When Anne and Gemma got home, Anne went straight to the kitchen to begin preparing dinner and the other three sat on the ground in the living room playing a game of Monopoly. Louis felt comfortable and often forgot that he literally just met Gemma because she treated him just like she treated Harry, except without the cruel, sisterly banter.

            “I think I like Louis better than I like you,” she told her brother at one point, to which he replied,

            “I would be worried about you if you didn’t.”

 

            “Will you be eating with us, Louis?” Anne asked once the main course was in the oven and she had a moment to rest. “We’d love to have you.”

            “Oh, um, thank you, but no. I don’t want to intrude on family time.”

            “You’re not intruding, dear. I invited you,” Anne said kindly.

            “Thank you, but I should probably be getting home.”

            “If you insist. Gemma, watch the food, please, while Harry and I run Louis home.”

            “Got it.”

            “I can walk,” Louis offered. Anne narrowed her eyes.

            “You are not walking in this mess again, child.”

            Deciding not to argue, Louis and the other two started to bundle up, and then they left, Louis making sure he had the gift Harry gave him before leaving. Louis asked if he could open it in the car, but Harry had told him no, as he didn’t want to see Louis’s face when he opened it. That was admittedly a little terrifying.

            “Is anyone else home?” Anne asked once she’d stopped outside Louis’s place, frowning at the dark house.

            “Um, no, I don’t think so, but I’ll be fine.”

            “Are you sure you don’t want to eat with us?”

            “I can’t, but thank you again. Both of you. For…everything.”

            “You’re welcome, honey.”

            “See you soon, Lou!” Harry called.

            “Yeah, I’ll talk to you tomorrow about…whatever this is,” Louis said, holding up the wrapped box. Harry smiled, a bit of color rising adorably to his face.

            Once inside, Louis put the gift safely on his bed before going to the bathroom and getting rid of as much of the cookies as he possibly still could. Afterwards, he felt almost numb, so he decided it would be a good time to unwrap the present Harry had given him. Inside of the wrapping paper was a plain cardboard box with ‘Open me! =)’ written in blocky red and green characters at the top. Louis obeyed, finding a cd inside.

            Opening the case of the cd, a piece of paper fell into Louis’s lap and he unfolded it, fingers fumbling just a little bit.

            _I hope this isn’t too cheesy,_ the handwritten note read. _These songs remind me of you, and I just think you should hear them. Please don’t hate me._

 

_Oh, and ignore the female pronouns on song four._

 

_You’re amazing, Lou, and I wish you could see that._

          Curious, Louis put the cd into his laptop and began to listen, realizing that he wasn’t as emotionally numb as he thought when the tears started pouring during the first song and didn’t stop until long after the last was over. All of the songs had virtually the same meaning; telling Louis he was beautiful and that Harry was there for him, but Louis loved every single one of them and he would be lying if he didn’t say they cut precisely through his heart.

            Although he hadn’t intended to use his diary anymore, Louis found himself pulling it out and jotting down the last line of the last song; the lyric that stuck with him the most. The words were simple, but Louis needed to hold onto them; needed to believe them.

 

            **_You’re not alone_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just for fun, this is the track list of the cd Harry made Louis :) Thanks to my brother and my friend for helping me find the songs!
> 
> 1) Yours to Hold---Skillet  
> 2) What Makes You Beautiful---Boyce Avenue (Obviously, it's a 1D cover but since 1D sadly does not exist in this fic, we will pretend)  
> 3) Somebody Out There---David Archuleta  
> 4) Just the Way You Are---Bruno Mars  
> 5) Porcelain---Marianas Trench  
> 6) In Your Room---Halestorm  
> 7) Beautiful---Nick Lachey  
> 8) Reach for the Sky---Secondhand Serenade


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I would just like to note that I have changed Louis's mom's name, as I'm sure Jay is a much better mother than the mom in this fic.

            Louis fell asleep that night listening to the cd Harry had made him and was about to text him when he woke up to thank him for it, but decided to call instead.

            “Hi, Louis!” Harry answered, cutting off the second ring.

            “Hey,” Louis said. “I listened to my cd. Thank you. I love it.”

            “Do you really?” Harry asked, sounding anxious. “I debated on it because I didn’t know if it would be out of line or not, but then I decided to just go for it…So you really like it?”

            “I do,” Louis assured him. “Thank you. It’s lovely.”

            “You’re welcome.

            “I should have gotten you something though.”

            “No you shouldn’t have. You spent the day with me. That was my present.”

            “That’s a pretty shitty present, Harry.”

            At that, the other boy let out a laugh so loud that Louis had to bring the phone away from his ear, but he was smiling. He loved Harry’s laugh.

            “Sorry,” Harry apologized once he’d composed himself. “So what are you doing today?”

            “Nothing,” Louis answered. “Haven’t you figured out that I don’t have a life by now?”

            “Do you want to go to the mall?” Harry asked, choosing not to answer Louis’s question. “Gem and her boyfriend are heading out soon and they said they can pick you up on the way if you and I want to go.”

            “Alright,” Louis agreed, glancing at the clock. “How long do I have to get dressed?”

            “Take your time. There’s no rush. Just, like, call me or something when you’re ready.”

            “Okay. Talk to you soon.”

            Louis got ready faster than he had ever gotten ready before, afraid that the others would change their mind and leave without him if it took him too long.

           An hour later, he was in the back of Harry’s mom’s car, Harry sitting in the middle seat despite the fact that he and Louis had the whole backseat to themselves.

            Once at the mall, Gemma and her boyfriend went to do their thing while Louis and Harry took off in the opposite direction, Harry’s hand laced tightly with Louis’s.

            “I honestly have no idea where I’m headed to,” Harry admitted after they’d walked for a couple minutes. “Is there anywhere in particular you want to go?”

            “Not really,” Louis said.

            “Me neither. We’ll just sit here until we figure it out.”

            Louis laughed as Harry led him over to a bench, plopping himself down before patting the seat next to him and gesturing for Louis.

            “Who comes to the mall just to sit on the benches?” Louis teased. Harry smiled.

            “I just wanted to spend time with you, but I suck at the whole ‘date’ thing. I’m sorry.”

            “I was teasing,” Louis assured him. “This is fine.”

            “If I could drive, our options would be less limited,” Harry continued.

            “Harry, stop. I’m serious. I was just joking around with you. This is perfect.”

            “Okay,” Harry said with a nervous smile, and Louis smiled back, looking away for a minute while he gathered the courage to ask what was on his mind.

            “I really do love that cd you made me,” he began, “but…why did you think I needed to hear those songs?”

            “Well, it’s obvious you don’t understand how gorgeous you are. You’re such a kind, wonderful person, but you kind of have this way of…blocking people out, just a little bit. And I think it’s because you don’t want people to see you the way you see yourself; the way you really think you are, and it’s sad, because you should be able to see how absolutely amazing you are. You’re just…you’re so stunning, to everyone except you.”

            “No, I’m not,” Louis argued, voice thick through the emotion he was fighting off.

            “Yes you are, Lou,” Harry said back, moving his hand up to Louis’s cheek, as he seemed to like to do. Louis’s face got hot underneath the touch.

            “You know…,” Harry continued. “Well, you probably don’t know…but I’ve liked you from the first second I saw you.”

            “I’ve liked you since then too,” Louis admitted, wondering briefly if Harry was lying because _blonde guy_. But _blonde guy_ wasn’t who Harry had chosen to spend Christmas Eve with…or Christmas day…or the day after Christmas…so... “Why didn’t you say anything?”

            “I didn’t think I would ever be lucky enough for you to like me back.”

            “What? Why? Who _wouldn’t_ like you?”

            Harry simply smiled in response.

            “I know it’s going to take more than a few songs for you to realize you’re beautiful, but I’m not giving up until you do.”

            Louis shook his head, but he was smiling. Harry took that as an opportunity to kiss him.

            Eventually, the two decided to go to the game store and play the demos until a shop employee began walking towards them and they made a run for it, hand-in-hand, and sides about to split from laughter. The run made Louis a bit dizzy, but Harry held tight to his waist once they’d stopped, foreheads together as they caught their breath. After that, they continued walking until Harry stopped outside of a jewelry store, ornery grin on his face.

            “Would you hate me if I made an ass out of myself right now?” Harry asked.

            “Probably not…,” Louis answered, nervously curious, and, grinning wider, Harry led him into the store.

            “May I help you?” one of the men behind the counter asked, looking at the boys suspiciously.

            “Yes, sir, thank you,” Harry said, tone completely formal. Louis almost snorted. “You see, yesterday, I proposed to my lovely boyfriend. I had always dreamed of a Christmas proposal, and I began searching for a ring months ago, but I couldn’t find anything that lived up to his beauty, and so I would like him to pick out his own ring; any one he wants.”

            Louis shot Harry a glance, but was met only with a smile and a subtle hand squeeze.

            “How old are you two?” the man asked, arms crossed. Louis grew nervous, but Harry remained calm, throwing a wide, dimpled smile his way.

            “Ah, age is but a number when you’re in love,” he sighed dreamily, putting an arm around Louis’s waist as Louis sucked in and smiled sheepishly at the salesman; George, his nametag read. “Besides,” Harry continued, reaching into his wallet with his free hand and pulling out a gold credit card. Both Louis and the man’s eyes widened, though luckily, Louis managed to compose himself before the other noticed. “Money knows no age,” Harry finished.

            “Alright,” George said. “Let me show you some of our options. Do you think you would be interested in a gold band, white-gold, black…?”

            It took Louis a little longer to fall into character than Harry, but whenever he faltered, Harry would plant a kiss on his cheek and, to George, say, “He’s so shy, bless him, but isn’t he the cutest?”

            After a ridiculously long time of looking through rings, Louis finally settled on a thin white-gold band, and the ‘couple’ decided to have their initials engraved on the inside, as well as yesterday’s date; the day they had supposedly gotten engaged.

            “Dear?” Harry said once George began calculating the price.

            “Yes, love?” Louis sked, batting his eyelashes up at the other, who kissed him before continuing.

            “Would you like to wait out there for me while we finish up, please? I do wish for you not to hear the final numbers because I know how practical you are, but you are worth all of the moons and suns.”

            Louis couldn’t help it then; he laughed, but George just smiled, having long ago accepted their sickening cheesiness.

            “If you insist, darling,” Louis sighed dramatically.

            “Thank you. I can’t wait to see your face again, my beautiful.”

            Louis had no reply to that except to cackle, and he was still giggling as he took a seat to wait while Harry…did whatever he was doing.

            “So tuxes next then?” a voice above Louis spoke, and he looked up to see Harry standing above him, smile on his face.

            “You’re ridiculous!” Louis said, laughing again as he stood. “How did you get out of that one?”

            “I have my ways,” Harry replied, waggling his eyebrows.

            “And why didn’t you tell me you’re a millionaire?!”

            “I’m not a millionaire,” Harry laughed. “The card doesn’t work. It’s one of those fake ones companies send out in the mail to try to scam you. It was my mum’s, but she never activated it, so I took it to look cool.”

            “You looked _very_ cool,” Louis assured him.

            “Thank you,” Harry said, holding his arm out for Louis to take. “Now I do believe my sister has been texting me for at least twenty minutes, so we should probably go find her.”

            “I did take a stupid long time to pick out a fake engagement ring, didn’t I?” Louis asked with a blush.

            “Not at all,” Harry assured him. “At least we gave George something to do.”

            “And also probably throw up his lunch,” Louis pointed out.

            “He’s just jealous,” Harry reasoned.

 

            “Do I even want to know what you two were up to?” Gemma asked once they met her at the store she had texted Harry about a half an hour ago.

            “Picking out an engagement ring,” Harry told her anyway.

            “That was a rhetorical question,” Gemma said.

 

            After leaving the mall, Gemma took Louis back to their house, where he and Harry lay on the older boy’s bed watching _Elf_ because the Christmas season wasn’t technically over until after the New Year. As the credits began to roll, Harry’s stomach grumbled loudly and Louis looked at him, amused.

            “A bit hungry, are you?”

            “Maybe,” Harry said, checking his watch. “God, yes, I’m starving,” he corrected with a groan. “We didn’t even eat lunch and now it’s dinner time.”

            “Well why didn’t you say anything?” Louis asked.

            “Well I know you don’t eat much, so…”

            Harry’s voice trailed off and Louis’s heart rate sped up, though he did his best to remain calm.

            “Just because I don’t eat much doesn’t mean you have to starve yourself,” he pointed out. Harry turned his head, looking up at Louis with something that looked like worry on his face.

            “Is that what you’re doing, Louis?” he asked, voice gentle, “Are you actually _starving_ yourself?”

            “No, Harry, of course not,” Louis said, laughing a bit at the question. “Remember the cupcake? And the cookies?”

            “Yeah, but they had to practically be shoved down your throat.”    

            “But I still ate them, which I don’t think I would have done if I were anorexic.”

            “Anorexic,” Harry repeated.

            “Which I am not,” Louis said.

            “So…you’re healthy then?”

            “Yes. Do I look unhealthy?”

            “No, no, Lou, this has nothing to do with how you look, I just…Never mind. I’m glad you’re healthy. Can I make us dinner?”

            “Oh, no, I should be going,” Louis replied, jumping off the bed and tugging down on his shirt, making sure it didn’t ride up and show anything Harry would definitely not want to see.

            “Please?” Harry asked, and he looked sad _and_ worried then, so, with a sigh, Louis decided to stay.

            Harry made them egg sandwiches, and Louis picked off as much of the bread as he could, but he still felt too full when he was done. Luckily, once they had finished eating and cleaned up the dishes, Gemma called Harry upstairs for ‘quick assistance’ and Louis hesitated only a couple moments before locking himself in Harry’s downstairs bathroom and quickly making himself throw up. He was done before Harry was back and Louis sat back on the couch, reaching into his pocket to pull out a piece of gum, but it wasn’t in there. Heart racing, Louis realized that he had stupidly left his pack on his nightstand right next to the case from Harry’s mix cd.

            “Sorry about that,” Harry called as he came back downstairs. “I guess Gem’s boyfriend left already and she needed help killing a spider. Women.”

            He was smiling as he came face-to-face with Louis, but that smile quickly turned into a frown.

            “Louis, what’s wrong?”

            “My mum texted me,” Louis lied quickly, wringing his hands together. “She needs me. I have to go.”

            Even Louis couldn’t deny the disappointment on Harry’s face, but he didn’t argue.

            “I’ll get Gemma,” he said instead. “Well take you home.”

            “No! That’s okay,” Louis insisted. “I’ll walk. I could use the exercise anyway.”

            He tried to put a laugh at the end so Harry wouldn’t get all weird about his eating habits again, but the noise that came out was something a bit hysterical.

            “Um…bye.”

            Louis exited the house quickly and didn’t walk, but ran all the way home, ignoring the fact that his legs felt like jelly and his lungs were threatening to burst.

            Somewhere along the way, he’d started to cry because _why_ did he have to do this? He and Harry had had a good day, he thought, and then Louis had to ruin everything. Louis was messed up, and he messed up everything. He hated himself.

            When he entered his house, gasping for breath, with tears still on his face, he was startled by some strange guy he’d never seen before sitting on the couch, his mother asleep against him.

            “Who are you?” the stranger asked, looking at Louis like he was vermin or something.

            “I’m Louis…,” the teen answered anyway, trying to look at the man in the same way, but thinking he looked more frightened than anything. He felt like he was going to pass out.

            “Louis,” the guy said. “Alright, and who in the hell is _Louis?_ ”

            “Kate’s son…”

            “I didn’t know she had a son,” he scoffed, looking down at the sleeping woman with the same expression on his face. Louis didn’t reply, not knowing how, and a moment later, his mother’s boyfriend or whatever he was turned his gaze back to him.

            “Well, _Louis_ , stop crying. You’re how old?”

            “Fifteen…”

            “Fifteen. Okay. You’re supposed to be a man now, Louis, and men don’t cry.”

            Of course, that only made Louis cry harder because someone had just admitted it; he was weak. He was a sorry excuse for a boy, let alone a man, and there was nothing he could do about it because he _couldn’t stop crying_.

            Before the random man on the couch could say anything else, Louis darted to his room and locked his door, pulling his little handy pocket knife out of his drawer.

            _This is manly, right?_ Louis rationalized as he made one, two, three slashes down his wrist. _Pain is manly. Facing death is manly_.

            With those thoughts in his head, Louis kept cutting until he became light-headed, blood dripping all the way to his elbow and down onto the bed. Then, glad that the tears had at least stopped, he washed off his arms, put his comforter in with the dirty laundry and laid down in bed, putting on Harry's cd before letting himself relax, wondering why Harry had made it for him when he wasn’t beautiful, and he wasn’t amazing. He wasn’t worth the time or effort. He wasn’t worth anything. He should have kept cutting. He should have gone until he stopped breathing.

            Maybe he still would, Louis thought as his eyelids grew heavy. Maybe he’d lost more blood than he thought. Maybe he’d sliced a vein and was internally bleeding. Maybe…

            But Louis woke up the next morning, and the throbbing of his arm told him that he was very much alive. Sighing, the teen dragged his weak body out of bed and to the kitchen to get some water. He’d thought he was going to be alone, so he didn’t bother hiding his heavily bandaged arms, but he was startled yet again when he found his mom at the table, still in her pajamas, crying. Louis quickly put his arm behind his back, though it was pointless. She was too absorbed in her sorrow to even notice his presence until he spoke.

            “Mum? I thought you had to work this morning?”

            Kate’s head shot up again at the sound of her son’s voice and her eyes narrowed, glare cold, as she replied,

            “Dale broke up with me last night. I didn’t think you’d be home so soon…What did you do Louis?! Why did you make him leave too?!”

            “I didn’t do anything!” Louis said, exasperated, her words hitting him painfully. “He didn’t even know I was. He didn’t know I existed.”

            The woman started crying harder then, covering her face as her body shook with sobs.

            “I just need someone to love me, Louis. Why don’t you understand that?”

            “I do, but, mum, I… _I_ love you.”

            “That’s not enough!”

            _That’s not enough, Louis_ , the voice inside his head that had been silenced for so long sneered. _You’re not enough, Louis._

Without another word, Louis turned on his heel and went back to his room, wishing he hadn’t said anything at all.

            Out of habit, Louis checked his phone after he’d thrown himself back down onto the bed, and noticed that he had a message from Harry.

            _Everything alright???_

            _No_ , Louis typed back furiously, too tired and angry to lie. His phone buzzed almost immediately.

            _What’s wrong?_

            Louis didn’t reply to that. _Everything_ was wrong. How didn’t people see that?

            _Can I help?_ Harry texted again. Louis locked his phone.

            _Louis, talk to me, please_ , he received-and ignored-five minutes later. Another five minutes after that, he got one more text.

            _I don’t know what you’re going through, but you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here. Stop shutting me out._

 _Just leave me alone, Harry,_ Louis typed back, tears stinging his eyes. _I’m never going to be good enough for you. I tried, but I’m not, and you might be here now but you won’t be here forever, so just leave me alone._

After pressing the ‘send’ button and watching as the message went though, Louis turned off his phone and threw it across the room so he would never know if he got a reply…

            …So he would never know if he didn’t.

 

_Dear diary,_

_I’m too tired to fight anymore_

_I’m too tired to live_

_I’m so tired of lying_

_But I think I’m just too tired to die_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter may have been a bit more triggering than the others. Again, if anyone needs to talk, I'm available.


	11. Chapter 11

            Louis lost track of time as he lay in bed, degrading himself over and over in his head; telling himself that he had done the right thing in telling Harry how it was. Harry was wasting his time with Louis, and Louis was setting himself up for more pointless heartbreak, growing closer to Harry every time he was around when, one day, he would disappear.

            Louis always made people disappear.

            Sometime in the late morning, the doorbell rang, but Louis ignored it. It rang again and then again and, finally, Louis heard his mom scream at him,

            “Louis, are you deaf?! Get the damn door!”

            Groaning loudly and hoping she heard, despite the fact that he would probably pay for it later, Louis threw himself off the bed, threw on a hoodie thick enough to hide the bandages and marched angrily to the door, coming face-to-face with Liam when he had opened it.

            “Hey, Lou! Get dressed. We’re going to London!”

            “I’m not going anywhere,” Louis said defiantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

            “Yes you are,” Liam insisted.

            “And how do you think we’re getting to London?” Louis asked.

            “Gemma is taking us.”

            “No.”

            “Yes. I told you we were going to go once you were out of that facility, and so now we are.”

            “I’m assuming you haven’t talked to Harry, have you? It’s over, Liam. We didn’t even have anything, but it’s over.”

            “Actually, I have talked to him, and he seems to disagree on that point. He wants to help you, Lou, and he really likes you, so stop being so stubborn and just let him. Look what happened when you shut Niall and me out. Do you want things to get that bad again?”

            “They won’t. Now, please, Liam, I just want to sleep.”

            “Too bad. You’re coming with us.”

            “Why?!”

            “Because I said so.”

            “Okay, _mum_ ,” Louis huffed. Liam smiled.

            “Nope. I love you more. Now hurry up and get ready! I am apparently not invited in, and it’s freezing out here.”

            “No, no, come in,” Louis sighed, stepping back to let Liam enter. “I still have to shower…”

            “Go ahead,” the other teen said, plopping himself down on the couch. "I’ll be right here waiting.”

            “I’m sure you will.”

 

            Louis took a quick shower, not because he was worried about being left behind this time, but because the water was stinging his arm, which he had unbandaged to give another wash, and also to examine the damage he had done. The slashes were red and not only angry, but furious. Louis didn’t think they were going to fade any time soon. Oh well.

            Though his clothes rubbing against the wounds also hurt, Louis didn’t take the time to bandage them again, mainly because if someone were to, for some reason, touch his arm, they would feel it and it would be game over. That would give them another reason to send him away again, probably.

            Zayn picked the two up from Louis’s house, Niall and Doniya already in the car, and he drove them all to Harry’s, where they quickly piled into Harry’s uncle’s van, which they were borrowing for the day.

            The ride to London was pretty awkward, if Louis was being honest, or maybe it was just him. Harry said a pleasant hello, but sat in the middle set of seats between Doniya and Zayn while Liam, Louis and Niall took the very back. There was constant conversation, but Louis didn’t participate, staring out the window during the times he wasn’t staring at the back of Harry’s head.

            The first thing they did when they finally made it to the city was eat, naturally, because apparently everyone’s world revolved around food. Or they just hated Louis.

            Though Harry had basically ignored Louis during the ride, he slid in next to him in the booth at the restaurant, Niall at his other side. Gemma and her boyfriend got their own table, leaving the group of teens alone.

            When the waiter came, he took everyone’s order before Louis’s, and Louis was hoping he would forget to ask him at all, but after Harry was finished ordering, the waiter’s eyes rested on him.

            “And you, sir?”

            “I’m good, thanks,” Louis said.

            “Nothing?”

            “No, not right now. Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome. Let me know if you change your mind.”

            After taking their menus, the waiter walked away and Louis suddenly felt five pairs of eyes all trained on him.

            “Stop it,” he ordered, shrinking down a bit into his seat.

            “Why aren’t you eating?” Liam asked, voice much harsher than Louis found necessary.

            “I’m just not hungry. It happens sometimes.”

            “We’re going to be out a while,” Harry spoke. “You’re going to need something. Will you split my salad with me?”

            “I’m not going to steal your food, Harry.”

            “It’s not stealing if I offer it, and I won’t eat it all anyway.”

            “Okay, but I don’t like salads with dressing or croutons, so…”

            “Isn’t that just raw vegetables then?” Zayn asked with a frown. Louis didn’t miss the quick glare Harry shot him.

            “That’s alright,” Harry insisted. “I’ll go catch the waiter and tell him to put those things on the side.”

            “It’s really okay. I’m fine.”

            “I’ll be back. Let me out, please, Niall.”

            Louis sighed as he watched Harry walk away in search of the waiter and everyone else slowly peeled their eyes away from him, rekindling the light conversation they’d had in the van.

            It took Louis about the same amount of time to choke down his _raw vegetables_ as it took everyone else to eat their full meals, but no one said anything. While they waited for the checks, Gemma made her way over.

            “Okay, kiddos. We’re heading out. I don’t care if you split up, but make sure you have _at least_ one person with you at all times, and keep your cell phones on. I have all of your numbers and I _will_ be doing frequent check-ups. If it takes longer than three minutes for _any_ of you to reply, I’m calling the police.”

            “You’re such a mum, Gem,” Harry teased with a smile. The woman’s face remained serious.

            “You did this to me,” she said. “I still have flashbacks from when your dumb ass ran away here.”

            Harry smiled wider.

            “But I am being serious,” Gemma told the group. "I’m responsible for all of you, and I am too young and beautiful to have guilt break-outs over losing a silly teenager.”

            “Yes, ma’am,” the group all answered politely, and then Gemma reluctantly let her boyfriend pull her away.

            “So we’re splitting up then,” Harry confirmed. The rest of the group agreed, and minutes later, Louis found himself alone with Harry, walking down the streets of London.

            “So…um…you ran away?” Louis spoke up after a couple minutes of awkward silence.

            “Kind of,” Harry said. “I was seven and my mum, dad, Gem and I were all here doing some shopping. My parents were still married then, but they fought _all_ the time, so, of course, an argument broke out. It was over something stupid; a painting or something, I think, and I was just so sick of hearing it all that I took off. Gemma was the first to notice. She’d been in the bathroom and I’m sure it didn’t take her long, but I guess I was nowhere around by the time she came back and pointed out that I was gone. The police were called and it was all over the news, actually, but I had no idea. Finally, I made my way into an ice cream parlor and they gave me all the free ice cream I could eat while they called the police and waited for my parents to show up. All in all, I was only gone for a couple hours or so, but my parents swear I took ten years off of their lives that day.”

            “That must have been hard, hearing them fight all the time,” Louis mused. Although Harry told the story like it was humorous, Louis found it sad. The Harry he knew was so bubbly, and thinking of a mini Harry running off in a big, crowded city because he just needed to escape was heartbreaking.

            “Yeah, I mean, I just loved them so much-and they loved Gem and I so much-that we couldn’t understand why they couldn’t love each other. But that event made them realize just how much their fighting was affecting us and they decided it was time to divorce. It was rough at first, but it got better quickly and they became friends again. We still spend the holidays together, along with mum’s new boyfriend and dad’s new girlfriend, because they never wanted us to feel like we had to choose sides, which is nice.”

            “That is nice,” Louis agreed.

            “So Liam told me that his dad used to be married to your mum? I think that’s amazing that you’ve been friends for so long,” Harry said, turning the conversation around on the other guy.

            “Yeah, well, we grew up together. Our parents met when I was just a couple months old and Liam wasn’t much older. They met at a support group. Liam’s dad had been an alcoholic before he met Liam’s mum, but when Liam was just a few weeks old, she died in a car crash and he relapsed. He wanted to get better for Liam, so that’s why he started going. My mum was…um…recovering too and they got together and married in less than a year. It didn’t work out because Geoff ended up completely sober and she didn’t, but they never took it out on us or anything. Liam and I actually ran away once too, but not in London and we went back before they even noticed we were gone.”

            As Louis finished, he realized with mild panic that he had probably said too much, but when he looked at Harry, the teen was smiling at him, if just a bit sadly, and then he laced their fingers together.

            “That’s sad about Liam’s mum,” Harry commented.

            “It is,” Louis agreed.

            “What about your dad then? If you don’t mind me asking.”

            “Oh, there’s not really much to say about him.” Louis shrugged. “He was in and out of my life for the first seven years, and then he just…stopped calling and coming around at all. That’s okay, though, because he was a prick anyway.”

            “Yeah, you’re not missing anything,” Harry agreed. “ _He_ is, but you’re not.”

            “He’s got a new family,” Louis said. “I don’t think he misses me.”

            “Well then he’s not just a prick, but a _stupid_ prick.”

            Louis smiled, appreciating Harry’s words even if they weren’t really true.

            “Where are we going?” he asked after another moment of silence.

            “The London Eye,” Harry answered matter-of-factly. “You can see basically the whole city on it, and it’s amazing. Wait, you’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

            “No, I’m not.”

            “Good.”

            It w _as_ good, Louis realized once they were there, nearing the very top of the gigantic ferris wheel. They were up _really_ high, and though Louis wasn’t afraid of heights, it was a little nerve-wracking. But in a good way. He felt alive.

Admittedly, Louis had lost his admiration for the city he’d desired to see for so long after the reason for his last trip, but now he was starting to appreciate its beauty again.

            “Isn’t it neat?” Harry asked, also gazing out at the city, hand resting comfortably on Louis’s knee. Louis wasn’t even sure if Harry knew it was there.

            “It’s amazing,” Louis said.

            “You’re amazing,” Harry retorted. Louis stayed quiet and for about a minute after that, so did Harry. Finally, once Louis chose to steal a glance at Harry, he noticed that the other teen was already looking at him, and he took that opportunity to ask,

            “What’s wrong, Lou?”

            “Nothing,” Louis answered, legitimately confused. He was having a good time, he really was.

            “Why did you say you aren’t good enough?”

            _Oh._

            “For you? Because I’m not…You’re gorgeous, you’re smart…you’re everything I’m not.”

            “You _are_ both of those things, though. You are the only person in your year that has those elective classes with me because most people can’t get approved for them until _at least_ the next year. And, Lou…I don’t know how many ways I can tell you how good-looking you are. Before we really talked…before I asked you to the dance…I heard Tyler, the guy that sits next to me in second, saying he was going to ask you. I…uh…well, I kind of told him we were already going together…”

            Harry looked nervous at the admission, but Louis smiled at him.

            “I’d rather go with you anyway.”

            Harry smiled too.

            “I’m glad, but that’s not the point. Do you have any idea how many people I had to tell that lie to before I realized I needed to grow some balls and just ask you?”

            “I don’t think that many…”

            “It was a lot. I’m surprised you didn’t hear that rumor, actually, and the only reason no one fought me about it was because of Zayn.”

            ‘You _are_ amazing, and I really, really like you, Louis, and I…I want you to be my boyfriend. Officially.”

            “Harry…,” Louis said, voice threatening to crack as he fought off the elated scream that rose in his throat; telling himself he needed to be rational.

            “Louis?” Harry prodded, shifting in his seat nervously as Louis trailed off.

            “It’s just, I…I’ll let you down,” Louis finished.

            “No you won’t. The only way you’ll let me down is if you say no. I mean, unless you really don’t like me or whatever and then you should say no, but if you do…”

            “I do, Harry,” Louis assured him quickly. “I really, really, _really_ do. It’s just-”

            “No,” Harry cut Louis off sharply before kissing him softly. “I don’t want to hear you put yourself down anymore, Louis William Tomlinson, so please, just do me a huge honor and agree to be my boyfriend?”

            “Yes,” Louis finally agreed because part of him was whispering no- _that damn voice_ -but the rest of him was screaming yes and Louis decided it was time to stand up to the voice over something.

            “Yes?” Harry repeated, seeming like he didn’t actually know if he had really heard that.

            “Yes,” Louis said again. Harry smiled, and was still smiling as he kissed Louis again.

            “Hey, how did you know my middle name?” Louis asked a few moments later as they had returned their gazes to the buildings below.

            “Oh, Liam mentioned it once,” Harry said off-handedly. Louis decided to not question it any further.

            The rest of the trip went extremely well and Louis started to relax, almost like at that dance those couple of months ago. Almost.

            But he was still happy, by his standards, and Harry seemed happy too, stopping mid-sentence multiple times to give him kisses just because.

            Gemma did hourly ‘head count’ texts as promised and then, just before eight o’ clock, instructed everyone to meet her at the restaurant they had been to earlier. Louis was afraid they were all going to want to eat again, but after the last of the couples (Zayn and Liam) had arrived, they simply headed back to the van.

            The ride home was much quieter than the ride there, everyone tired from the long, exciting day. Harry sat next to Louis in the back that time, snuggling close as they both fought to keep their eyes open.

            “Do you want to spend the night at my place?” Liam asked Louis as they neared their town, his face clearly showing worry. Louis’s mom had been in her bedroom when the two had left and, not wanting to speak to her, Louis had written a note of the day’s plans and stuck it to the refrigerator. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done.

            “I should go home,” Louis said, even though he really didn’t want to. “I’m probably grounded for at least the rest of my teen years as it is.”

            “Wait, what?” Harry asked, sitting up from where his head was rested on his boyfriend’s shoulder and looking at him with a frown.

            “Nothing, Curly,” Louis said with a smile, bouncing one of Harry’s loose curls. The other teen actually giggled.

            “Curly. I like it.”

            “I’m glad because it’s staying.”

            “I hope so.”

 

            They arrived at Liam’s house first and, after checking one more time that Louis didn’t want to stay, he and Zayn said goodbye and he went inside. Niall was dropped off next, and then they arrived at Louis’s. Like a gentleman, Harry walked him to the door.

            “Thank you for today,” the older boy said as they came to a stop on the front porch.

            “Today only happened because of you,” Louis pointed out.

            “I think it was a mutual effort,” Harry reasoned. Louis gave a quick smile before nervously shoving his hands into his coat pocket and saying,

            “I’m sorry about this morning…”

            “That’s alright,” Harry said. “I just don’t want you to ever think you’re not good enough for _anyone_ , okay?”

            “I’ll try.”

            In reality, he knew he probably wouldn’t, as it was pointless, but Harry didn’t need to know that.

            “See you soon?” Harry asked.

            “It wouldn’t be much of a relationship otherwise.”

            “Relationship,” Harry spoke, smiling at the word. “Right. Well…good night.”

            “Good night, Curly.”

            After giving Louis one last kiss, Harry headed back to where the others were waiting. Louis unlocked his door and then turned to wave before entering.

            As soon as he was inside, Louis was knocked back against the door by his mother’s weight, and he let out a rather unmanly squeak, squeezing his eyes shut and preparing himself for the worst beating of his life before he realized she was hugging him.

            “Louis!” she cried. “Louis, my sweet, sweet, baby, I thought you had left me too!”

            “I left a note,” Louis said, putting his arms awkwardly around the woman, like he knew she wanted, even though he couldn’t quite forgive her for that morning yet.

            “I know you did, but it just got so late…”

            “It’s okay, mum. I’m here.”

            Sighing, Kate finally pulled away after a few more moments and wiped her eyes, giving Louis a shaky smile.

            “So how was London?”

            “It was fun. Harry asked me to be his boyfriend.”

            He regretted those words as soon as they were out of his mouth. His mother had just gotten dumped, for Christ’s sake. However, though she teared up again, her demeanor remained calm.

            “That’s great, Lou. I’m so happy for you.”

            “Thanks…”

            “Love is hard to keep though, Louis, so you better hold tight.”

            “Yeah,” the boy agreed, a nervous lump rising in his throat. “I’ll do the best I can.”

 

            Louis was half asleep in bed a mere two minutes after he lay down, but his phone vibrating on his nightstand woke him from his partial slumber. He smiled when he saw Harry’s name on the screen.

            _I know we already said this, but good night, beautiful. Sleep tight X_

 _Yeah, I’m trying,_ Louis typed back, without thinking about the fact that Harry was not quite used to his sense of humor and couldn’t read the sarcasm in his texts.

            _OMG! I’m so sorry :(_ _  
_

_OMG! I should not have sent that_

_Or that one either_

_Or that_

_SHIT!_

_Roflmao,_ Louis sent because, while he wasn’t actually rolling on the floor, he was laughing pretty damn hard.

            _It was a joke, Curls. Calm down X_

_You’re mean X_

_XX_

When Louis woke, the smell of coffee drifted right to his nose, which was not unusual when his mom was home, but when he pulled himself out from under the sheets and prodded into the kitchen, it was not only his mother, but also Harry sitting at the kitchen table.

            “Oh,” Louis said, wrapping his arms around his middle self-consciously. Of all the mornings he would decide to leave his room with a tight- long-sleeved shirt instead of a hoodie…

            “Good morning!” Kate greeted cheerfully. “Your boyfriend is wonderful, Louis, I approve. He brought breakfast for us all. Now come sit.”

            Louis wanted to shake Harry and ask what he was doing to him, but instead, he gave the boy a small smile and sat in the chair next to him.

            “Smells great Harry. Thanks,” he managed. “But you’re really bad for my diet, you know that, right?”

            Harry shrugged, smiling as he took in Louis’s terrible, terrible bed-head.

            “Not like you need it anyway.”

            “Um, you must not have actually seen me at the beginning of the year then.”

            Louis didn’t really view that as putting himself down. He was bigger at the beginning of the school year, it was a simple fact.

            “I did see you,” Harry said, “and there was nothing wrong with you or your body.”

            Before Louis had a chance to respond to that, his mom interjected.

            “Wait, Louis, you’re on a diet?”

            “It was a joke, mum,” Louis said quickly, panic making him dive right into the bag of fattening muffins. “Mmm, this one’s chocolate. My favorite.”

            As he shoved the selected treat into his mouth, he felt both of the others’ eyes linger on him. Harry was the last to look away, but probably because he was grossed out by how quickly Louis devoured his food. Louis didn’t blame him. He was disgusted too.

            “So,” Harry said when the other two were finishing up, having eaten at the pace of a normal human. “Will you spend the day with me or are you tired of me?”

            “I’m not tired of you,” Louis assured him. “I need to get a shower before we do anything, though, so I won’t be so nasty.”

            “Lou…stop putting yourself down,” Harry sighed. Louis ignored that.

            “Keep him company, mum. I’ll be out soon.”

            As soon as Louis entered the bathroom and locked the door, he turned on the shower and sunk to his knees in front of the toilet. He was crazy over Harry, and still elated that they were actually boyfriends, but that didn’t mean he could slack. In fact, if anything, he had to be _more_ careful now. Like his mom said, love was hard to hold onto, and that was especially true when it was him.

            Logically, Louis knew it didn’t  make much sense to keep doing this when Harry was clearly trying to save him; save him just like Louis had dreamed he would back before any of this was even close to being real, but maybe Louis couldn’t be saved. He was still so tired, physically and emotionally, but he knew he’d grow used to it one day and, if he worked hard enough, he may even keep Harry be his side through it all.

 

_Dear diary,_

_The knight in shining armor is supposed to save the day_

_My knight, he tries_

_But day has faded so maybe mine is just supposed to hold me in the dark_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, if you could be so kind as to let me know if there are any humiliating mistakes, that would be great. I proof-read it multiple times, but I changed a bunch of stuff each time so I could easily have overlooked something. Otherwise, I hope you liked this chapter :) Part 1 is nearing its end!


	12. Chapter 12

            Despite everything, Louis really was happy that morning. When he was all freshened up and went to join Harry on the couch, the older teen put his arm around him and Louis was proud that he almost fit with him. Though he usually hated his height-or lack of-he now accepted it because it contrasted nicely with Harry’s long legs. If he was just a little thinner, he would fit perfectly. He was working on that, and he would get there one day, he knew he would.

            “Hey, Louis?” Harry said after they had watched one episode of some show neither of them could really get into.

            “Hmm?” Louis hummed, liking the way Harry’s arms tightened around him as he did so.

            “Do you wanna build a snowman?”

            “…Styles, you just did not…”

            “I did. Don’t make me sing the whole song.”

            “Please, no. I will build a snow _anything_ with you, just please do not sing that song.”

            “A snow _anything_?”

            “Anything.”

            “Hm…we’ll stick to a snowman for now, but I will keep that offer in mind.”

            After bundling up, the two boys made their way to the front yard to begin their work. Louis briefly contemplated pelting Harry with a snowball, but figured Harry would retaliate, and Louis was cold enough as it was. Maybe some other time.

            “There,” Harry sighed once they’d finished the snowman’s face. “He’s almost perfect.”

            “Almost?” Louis asked.

            “Yes. He looks cold. He needs clothes.”

            “To be fair, Harry, he’s a man made from snow. I think he’s rather used to the cold; probably prefers it, in fact.”

            “You’re a smart ass,” Harry commented, softening his words as he pulled Louis in for a kiss. “He looks rather plain, though, don’t you think?”

            “I suppose you’re right,” Louis agreed. “Let’s go see if we can find anything to glam him up a little bit.”

            Louis left the fashion part up to Harry and watched, amused, as the older guy rummaged through the coat closet.

            “Being awfully picky for a snowman, aren’t you?” Louis asked after Harry had picked up and set down the third scarf he’d come across.

            “It’s not just any snowman,” Harry replied, a faux sternness in his voice. “He’s _our_ snowman. OH! This is fab.”

            As Harry turned to show Louis his discovery, a blush rose to the younger boy’s face. The scarf was his, and he’d bought it about a year ago in a moment of weakness. Never in a million years would he be caught in a black and blue sparkly scarf, no matter how much he secretly liked it.

            “I used to have some questionable fashion choices,” Louis said, hoping his embarrassment wasn’t too obvious.

            “No, I really do love it,” Harry told him, and he sounded sincere, at least. “This would look great on Chad.”

            “Who’s Chad?” Louis asked, voice softer than he’d intended as his heart dropped, flashes of that damn blonde stranger from Zayn’s party going through his mind.

            “Chad is the snowman, of course,” Harry answered simply, and Louis laughed a bit too loudly in relief.

            “You are ridiculous,” he told Harry, not for the first time. Harry wasn’t offended, though.

            “You’re ridiculous too,” he told Louis. “Ridiculously cute.”

            Louis replied only by rolling his eyes.

            “Come on,” he said, walking back out to the front. Harry followed.

            “He’s so gorgeous!” he exclaimed after he and Louis had dressed Chad in the selected hat, scarf and mittens. “I’m so proud of us.”

            Louis watched, shaking his head in adoration as Harry took out his phone, snapped a picture of Chad and promptly uploaded it to Facebook.

            “You haven’t accepted my relationship request, you know,” Harry told Louis, sniffling dramatically. Louis rolled his eyes again.

            “I haven’t been on. I’ll accept it, I promise.”

            “Good. Hey, we need a selfie!”

            “Do we? I mean, do we _really_?”

            “Yes.”

            Moving closer to his boyfriend, Harry switched the phone to selfie mode and smiled at the camera. Louis smiled too, but it felt forced. He was happy right then, honestly, but he wasn’t a big fan of staring right at his flawed face.

            He wasn’t sure if his smiled looked as fake as it felt, but Harry quickly changed poses, opting to give Louis a big kiss on the cheek. Surprised, Louis couldn’t stop the huge smile that split his face then, and before he could compose himself, Harry snapped the picture.

            “Ew, no, don’t use that one,” Louis said, nose wrinkled in disgust at the image Harry was smiling happily at.

            “Why? It’s perfect,” Harry retorted, and set it as his profile picture anyway.

            “I’m cold,” Louis said, partly so Harry would stop looking at that damn photo but mostly because it was true. “Can we go inside?”

            “Of course,” Harry replied, locking his phone and sliding it into his pocket before slipping his gloved hand into Louis’s and walking back in.

            “Do you want any hot tea or hot chocolate or anything?” Louis offered as they unbundled.

            “Ooh, hot chocolate, please.”

            While he fixed Harry’s hot chocolate, Louis made himself a cup of tea, and then they took their drinks to the couch, where they decided to give the television another go. Soon, they’d grown bored once again and left their beverages abandoned on the coffee table in front of them so their arms would be free for cuddling.

            “Sooo,” Harry said after a moment, “what are your hobbies?”

            “Hobbies? I don’t really have any,” Louis replied.

            “So, in your free time, you just like to sit there and stare at the walls?” Harry asked.

            “Kind of,” Louis said with a laugh because it did seem like he was doing a lot of that these days actually. That was pathetic, though, so he added, “I write sometimes.”

            “Yeah? What do you write?”

            “Songs…and poems and stuff.”

            Louis hadn’t written a song in forever, to be honest, and his diary entries could barely be called ‘poems,’ but it was all he could do, almost all motivation gone.

            “Songs? Do you sing or play any instruments?”           

            “I sing, and I also play guitar and piano.”

            Well, he used to, at least.

            “That’s amazing,” Harry said.

            “Not really,” Louis told him. “I’m not that good at any of it.”

            “I bet you are. Will you sing for me?”

            “No! No, no, no. I haven’t actually sung for a while.”

            Not to mention he’d probably made his voice worse than it had already been with his purging.

            “Well, I’ll stick with my belief that you’re amazing anyway,” Harry said.

            “What about you?” Louis asked. “What are your hobbies?”

            “I sing too, and I draw, but that’s basically it. My singing is just for fun, but I take my drawing a little more seriously. Zayn and I actually want to open a tattoo shop once we’re out of school.”

            “Really?!”

            “Yep. We’re starting to look for jobs, actually, so we can save the money to do it.”

            “That’s awesome. Do you want a tattoo then?”

            “I want a lot of tattoos.”

            “Yeah? What of?”

            “Dunno yet.”

            Louis hummed in response, scooting closer to Harry, who tightened his hold on the boy.

            “You’re still so cold,” the older boy said, pulling Louis even closer still.

            “I’m always cold,” Louis admitted, nuzzling into Harry’s endearingly thick sweater.

            “Guess I should have gotten you a hoodie for Christmas-slash-your birthday then, instead of a cheesy mix cd,” the other teen said.

            “But I love my cd,” Louis said.

            “You don’t have to lie.”

            “I’m not.”

            “It’s just…it doesn’t seem like you’re taking the lyrics too literally, Lou.”

            Instead of providing a verbal answer to that, Louis just hummed again, this time doing the tune of one of the songs on the cd so Harry would know he was at least listening. Harry dropped the subject, waiting a couple minutes before speaking again.

            “Do you want to go get some lunch?”

            “I’m still full from breakfast,” Louis replied, “but I’ll go with you if you want to get something, or you can just eat something here.”

            “Nah, that’s okay.”

            Louis felt bad because Harry wouldn’t have mentioned anything if he wasn’t hungry, but he feared if he tried to get Harry to eat without him, it would backfire and Louis just couldn’t eat right now. The thought made his stomach turn and his throat itch, already wanting him to gag when he had nothing in his system to expel.

            “This movie is boring,” Harry spoke again after they’d fallen silent for another few minutes. “Let’s do something else.”

            “Like what?”  

            “Do you have a guitar or piano?”

            “I have a guitar and keyboard.”

            “Teach me how to play.”

            “Really?”

            “Yeah, if you want to.”

            Smiling, Louis sat up straight, Harry’s arms falling from around him in the process. Involuntarily, Louis shivered. He couldn’t believe how much warmer he’d felt next to Harry. They couldn’t really snuggle while instrument playing, though, so Louis would just have to deal.

            “Guitar or keyboard?” Louis asked.

            “You decide.”

            “Okay. I’ll be back.”

            Louis contemplated for a bit, staring at both of his instruments, torn. Harry had long, slim fingers, perfect for the keyboard, but Louis had learned on a piano (and quite liked the piano better) so decided they may make better progress with the guitar. The keyboard would just have to wait for another day.

            When Harry saw Louis heading back towards him, guitar in hand, he smiled, sitting straighter and bouncing in his seat a little.

            “Perfect.”

            Smiling right back, Louis helped Harry adjust the straps and showed him where to put his hands.

            “What if I break a string?” Harry asked, suddenly frowning.

            “I have extras,” Louis assured him. Seeming comforted by that, Harry smiled again and shifted into more comfortable position.

            “Okay,” he said. “What chord are we doing first?”

            “‘G.’”

            “You’re such a hot teacher.”

            Louis ducked his head as he smiled, adjusting his fringe before looking back at Harry.

            “This is serious business, Harry.”

            “I’m sorry, Mr. Tomlinson. Hey, before we start, can I have a kiss? You know, for good luck?”

            Louis smiled _again_ -how did Harry do this to him?-and pecked the other’s lips quickly before repositioning Harry’s hands (which had found their way to Louis’s face as usual,) on the guitar and beginning their lesson.

            Unlike Louis with ice skating, Harry was pretty quick to catch on to the basics of guitar and, soon, Louis had gone back to his room to retrieve the keyboard, the two playing simple melodies together, often accompanied with laughter when Harry messed up or just because they felt like laughing.

            “That was lovely, boys.”

            A voice from the other side of the room made both of them jump. It was, of course, only Louis’s mom, arms crossed over her chest, but a wide smile on her face.

            “Were you sleeping, mum?” Louis asked, suddenly nervous. “Did we wake you?”

            “I wasn’t sleeping,” the woman assured them. “I just wanted to see if Harry would be staying for dinner?”

            Dinner. Of course.

            _Why_ _were there three meals in a day?_ Louis wondered. It seemed a bit unnecessary.

            “Um…sure, if that’s okay,” Harry answered, glancing at Louis like he was asking his permission just as much as his mom’s.

            “That’s just fine,” Kate assured him while Louis nodded. Harry gave another of his famous smiles.

            “But, um, would it be alright if Louis and I fixed dinner?” he asked.

            “Well…yes, sure. That would be lovely,” Kate said, neither face nor voice hiding her surprise at the request.

            “We’re cooking dinner?” Louis asked once his mom had retreated back to her room.

            “If that’s alright with you,” Harry said, resting a hand on Louis’s knee. “I love to cook.”

            _Of course you do_ , Louis thought, because Harry was sure to be his death. What he said was, “That’s totally fine. What are we making?”

            “Hm…there’s this really simple and delicious pasta meal that I think would be good, so...pasta okay with you?”

            _No_.

            “Yes.”

            “Great. Let’s hurry and get to the store then so we can get started. It doesn’t take long, but I don’t want to keep your mum waiting.”

            _And you’re probably starving_ , Louis thought to himself. _Starving because of me._

“Let me go see if I have money for a cab,” he said.

            “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Harry assured him.

            “You pay for the cab, like, every time,” Louis pointed out. Harry shrugged.

            “I get a monthly cab allowance. It’s fine.”

            “And what about money for the ingredients?”

            “Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”

            “…Are you _sure_ you’re not a millionaire?”

            “Positive,” Harry laughed. Louis wasn’t sure he believed him, but he didn’t argue.

            Once at the store, Harry sent Louis after a couple simple items, but once he busted him reading the nutrition facts (mainly calorie count) on the back, he banned him from helping anymore, and literally squawked his protest when he turned around after getting a pepper and saw that Louis had picked up the noodles and begun to read that as well. Louis was almost amused enough to forget about the vast amount of fat he would be forced to consume in an hour or so. Almost.

            The cooking part of the process, Louis actually enjoyed. Harry took it very seriously, but not serious enough as to get mad when Louis was just a little slow at chopping the vegetables, or when the pieces were all uneven. Harry kept up light conversation as they worked and rewarded Louis with a kiss randomly for his good work. It was fun, and Louis was glad Harry had decided to do this. He just wished he didn’t have to eat what they were making. (Or anything else.)

            The meal _did_ taste good, Louis guessed, even though every bite felt thick going down his throat and sour once in his stomach.

            _Calm down, Louis_ , he told himself, taking a deep, subtle breath to settle the nausea. _You can get rid of it, just not this second_.

            Luckily, Harry and Louis’s mom were too involved in whatever they were discussing to notice Louis’s struggle, and he somehow managed to utter a “yeah” or at least “mhm” when necessary.

            “Thank you, boys. That was delicious,” Kate said once they had all finished eating.

            _Louis, you ate the whole damn plate, you fat pig._

“Don’t either of you worry about the dishes. I’m going out with a friend, but I’ll get them cleaned up when I get home. Louis, dear, can you come help me find what to wear tonight real quick? Harry, I promise I won’t keep him long.”

            “Mum, just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I’m a fashion expert. Have you seen the way I dress?” Louis said.

            “You have a wonderful sense of fashion when you wear clothes that actually fit you,” Kate responded. Louis rolled his eyes, but _ouch_ , did his mom just admit he was fat? He followed her to her bedroom anyway, where she then pulled him into a hug.

            “Um…,” was Louis’s reaction.

            “I’m so proud of you, baby,” the woman said, pulling away but keeping her hands on his shoulders and _oh god_ , she had tears in her eyes. Louis hoped this wasn’t going to take long. He needed to go throw up before _too_ much of the pasta he’d just eaten was digested and forever made a home in the fat on his thighs and tummy.

            “Proud of what?” Louis asked. “Dinner? Harry did most of it, mum.”

            “No, honey. The meal was wonderful, but I’m proud of you for eating it. I know I haven’t said this since you got home, but I _am_ proud of you, Louis, for everything you’ve had to overcome, and you did most of it all by yourself.”

            Well, shit, she wasn’t supposed to say _that._ Now Louis was tearing up too.

“What’s wrong, baby?” the woman asked, wiping one rebellious tear that actually made its way out of Louis’s eye.

            “I….”

            Louis wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t better; that he still hated his body and everything else about himself, that he hated being hungry but that was the only way he felt halfway normal, that he hated throwing up but that was the only way he could ease his mind, if only for a moment, from all the chaos.

            But he didn’t.

            “I’m just so happy,” he lied, and she pulled him into another hug. This time, he hugged her back.

            “Geoff is going to be so proud too,” she added after a moment.

            “Geoff?” Louis asked with a frown, wondering what Liam’s dad had to do with this. “He knows?”

            “He paid for half of your treatment, love.”

            “What?!” Louis almost shouted, pulling away from his mother. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

            “He asked me not to. He didn’t know if you would accept it that way. Just because he and I stopped loving each other a long time ago doesn’t mean we stopped loving you boys. He knew what was going on, and he knew I didn’t have that kind of money, but he wanted you to get better, Lou. He wanted it just as much as the rest of us.”

            Louis didn’t really know how to take this new information. He’d still assumed that his mom had mainly sent him away to give herself a break, but Geoff barely saw Louis as it was; he had no reason to want to lock Louis up.

            “I have to get back to Harry, mum,” Louis choked.

            “Of course, baby,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Also, I know this is belated, but I love you too. And you are enough.”

            “But you’re still going out tonight,” Louis couldn’t stop himself from pointing out.

            “Just with a female friend, and to give you and Harry some privacy. But _please_ don’t take advantage, and be careful, alright?”

            “Of course.”

            “Good. Now…which shirt?”

 

            “Sorry it took so long,” Louis apologized as he went back to the kitchen. “Hey, you don’t have to do those.”

            “I know,” Harry said, smiling at Louis from the sink where he was washing the dishes. “It won’t take long, and then what do you think you’re going to want to do?”

            Louis opened his mouth to admit that he had no idea, but then his mom called a quick goodbye to them both before leaving the house and Louis felt that this was his opportunity. He couldn’t before, as his mom had decided to hog the bathroom to freshen up…

            “You decide. I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

            “Lou.”

            Before he’d even taken three steps, Louis felt a wet, soapy hand on his own and turned towards it. Harry was staring, eyes wide and filled with that same damn look as when he had asked Louis if he was starving himself.

            “Don’t,” the older boy said. With a nervous laugh, Louis gently pulled away, wiping his wet hand on his jeans.

            “I’m just going for a wee, Harry, stop being weird.”

            “Louis…”

            “I’ll only be a minute.”

            Harry watched him walk away, completely oblivious to the fact that his soaked hand was dripping water onto the floor. Louis knew he had to be quick, but, for some reason, once he was on his knees, the toilet lid lifted, he hesitated. He felt so full, so disgusting…but he didn’t want to purge. He never really wanted to purge, this time was different. This time he was about to stand up and walk right back out. He almost did, too. He was halfway off the ground before he let himself collapse back down, rolling up his sleeves and shoving his two most handy fingers down his throat. He knew he needed to be quiet too, because the house was basically dead silent and it wasn’t a big house; noise traveled easily. But as he slid his fingers further and further down the back of his throat, a bunch of different things flashed through his mind.

            _I’m so proud of you, baby._

_Geoff is going to be so proud._

_You know we love you, mate. We just wanted to help._

_You’re gorgeous, Lou. You don’t need to change anything about yourself._

_Fat._

_So Fat._

_Ugly._

_Worthless._

_Is that you’re doing, Louis? Are you actually starving yourself?_

_Don’t._

_Don’t._

_DON’T._

_NO._

_STOP._

_No…_

“No! Louis, no! Stop!”

            It took a moment for Louis to realize that the last couple of words weren’t in his head and he gasped, only then registering that Harry had a hold of his wrist-his scarred wrist-and was pulling Louis’s hand from his mouth. It took Louis even longer to hear the sobs coming from his throat and feel the tears on his cheeks. It took longer still to notice the ones on Harry’s.

            “I’m sorry!” Louis gasped, collapsing sideways. Harry caught him, lowering himself to the ground with Louis, who clung to Harry’s shirt with his clean hand. “I’m sorry! Don’t hate me! I’m so sorry!”

            “Shhh…it’s okay, Lou, it’s okay. I’ve got you. I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

            “I’m so fucked up, Harry! You’re so beautiful. What are you doing with me?”

            “I want to be with you, Louis, and you aren’t fucked up. You’re sad. God, Lou, why are you so sad?”

            “I just want to fit somewhere!” Louis gasped, spilling everything he’d never said to his therapists, or anyone else for that matter. “I make everyone leave and I just want someone to stay. I want to belong. But everyone is going to leave because I always let people down. And I…I just want to fit! But I need to be smaller to fit!”

            “Louis, no.” Harry grabbed onto Louis’s waist as the younger boy crawled back to the toilet. “You fit right here, with me. But not in this bathroom, Louis. Not knelt over the toilet with your fingers down your throat. Just here with me.”

            Pulling Louis once again away from the toilet, Harry pulled him up onto his lap, cradling him, much like a baby. Louis decided he would be embarrassed about that later.

            “Right here,” Harry said, softer, kissing the top of Louis’s head. “You fit right here in my arms, safe and loved. You’re so loved, Louis.”

            “Love d-doesn’t l-last, Harry,” Louis gasped, cries coming quieter, but just as painfully.

            “Mine does,” Harry said.

            “You c-can’t know that. We’re so young. We’re too young.”

            “You can’t be too young to love. And I love you. I’ve been infatuated with you since I first laid eyes on you, I’ve loved you since that day in the café, after we got our Halloween costumes and I’ve been in love with you since that day you showed up at my flat with my school work. Actually, I think I fell in love with you before that, but seeing you then, after I hadn’t seen you in so long…I felt whole. You make me whole. That’s when I knew you were my missing puzzle piece. That’s why you fit.” _  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I know there was no diary entry. That was done on purpose.) :)
> 
> Also, I don't think I will be able to update before Christmas, so merry Christmas to all who celebrate!
> 
> And now I feel bad because I never wished anyone a happy Hanukkah a happy Hanukkah as well and any other holiday I may have missed.


	13. Chapter 13

            When school started up again, everyone had different schedules and, sadly, the only class Louis and Harry had together was gym.

            Things had been going a bit better ever since that night Harry had found Louis in the bathroom, about to make himself sick, and even though Louis was still embarrassed about it, Harry had been great.

            Once Louis had composed himself a bit that night, Harry had taken him to his bed, where they cuddled the best they could while Louis was halfway in the fetal position, stomach in pain from heavy heaving with no relief. Harry rubbed his back, pet his hair, kissed his neck; anything he could think of to make him feel a little better. Finally, once Louis had drifted into a state of semi-consciousness, Harry lifted his arm, bringing his lips down to the scars covering the skin. Louis jolted awake, snapping his arm back and flicking the sleeves back down.

            “You don’t have to hurt yourself, Lou,” Harry said softly, kissing his forehead instead.

            “You don’t understand, Harry,” Louis sighed. He didn’t expect him to understand, of course. Not many people felt the need to make themself feel physical pain to numb the emotional, and Louis was glad. He wouldn’t wish it on anybody.

            “I know I don’t understand,” Harry admitted, “but that doesn’t mean you’re alone. We’ll get you through this.”

            “I already tried. I can’t. I’m just like this.”

            “I don’t believe that’s true.”

            “It is. When I was gone for that long time in hospital…I was in rehab. They told me I was anorexic.”

            “I didn’t mean that I didn’t believe you’d tried to change. I just think you’re mistaken when you say you can’t get better. Did you believe them, Louis? When they told you that you were anorexic?”

            “Yeah, I mean, I guess I had some anorexic tendencies, but it really wasn’t that serious. It’s still not that serious.”

            “Louis, the only things you ate today were that muffin and a small serving of pasta, if you can even say that, since you mainly had the vegetable part on your plate. You were trying to get rid of your dinner, and I bet you did throw up breakfast, didn’t you?”

            “I’m sorry,” Louis apologized, tearing up again. “You were being so nice, bringing over breakfast for us all, and I just…I…I couldn’t help it!”

            “I know,” Harry said, placing another kiss to Louis’s forehead. “I figured you were when you went to shower, and I wish I would have gone and stopped you then.”

            “Wait, how did you know?”

            “It’s been obvious for a while that something was wrong, and then, while you were gone, we learned about eating disorders in my psychology class. It just made so much sense.”

            “Are you mad that I lied to you?”

            “No, of course not. You barely knew me.”

            “Harry…”

            “Yeah?”

            “How did you get into the bathroom tonight? I swear I locked the door…”

            “My fake gold credit card is useful for many things.”

            “And you’re not scared off?”

            “I’m _scared_ , but not scared off, no. I want you to get better, for real, and I want to be here to help you. I know it’s going to be a process, but, please, will you try?”

            “Sure, Harry,” Louis sighed, not sure right then if he meant it or not.

            “And will you let me help you?”

            “I’ll let you try.”

 

            And Harry _did_ try, and succeeded, in a way. Louis was eating. He’d have one piece of fruit for breakfast and celery with peanut butter for lunch. Dinner was a little trickier. Now that Louis’s mom wasn’t so concerned with getting a man, she paid more attention to her son, which was a good thing, Louis supposed, for everything except his waistline.

            Of course, his mom still had odd and often late shifts at the hospital, so Louis could sometimes manage to eat only some vegetables, or grilled chicken with rice if he was feeling rebellious. Sometimes he ate no dinner at all. That didn’t happen often, though, because Harry and the rest of the group usually liked to do something after school and Harry wouldn’t easily let Louis go until he made sure he’d eaten something that Harry deemed ‘substantial.’

            On those nights, Louis would still find himself locked in the bathroom, making himself throw up until he just couldn’t anymore, but he was still eating at least twice a day without purging, so he didn’t see a problem.

            He told Harry he didn’t know how he was still losing weight because he didn’t. He felt huge, and no amount of sit-ups seemed able to get rid of that stubborn bit of tummy he swore he would always have. Harry didn’t quite believe him, Louis thought, but it wasn’t like he could prove anything, so a fight was usually avoided. Louis had even taken to gagging himself with a toothbrush so his hands couldn’t give him away again. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even purge. He knew how much damage frequent vomiting could do to his teeth, so he would occasionally decide to just run around the block two or three times. He didn’t do it too often, as he hated how out of breath he got and sometimes it would end with him getting sick anyway, but he figured Harry would still be proud. Not that Harry actually knew, of course.

            As for the cutting, Harry had taken to doing wrist/arm checks at least a couple times a week. Louis tried to quit altogether, but eventually he gave in and moved his target spot from his arms to his thighs. He almost liked that more anyway. It seemed more private.

            Things had been going that way since the very end of December, and it was now almost the beginning of May. Louis had been recovered for four months. And he _was_ recovered, he swore to himself at night when his stomach would be hurting from either hunger or self-induced illness paired with his nightly sit-ups. He may be hungry, but he wasn’t starving, and that was as good as it was going to get.

            Of course, there was still physical education class, and Louis absolutely hated it. He used to not mind it; liked it even, but that was before he’d let himself get so out of shape. He was a lot thinner than he had been a year ago, but the fact that he could barely run a lap around the gym without getting out of breath and dizzy told him that he still had a lot of work to do. Maybe he should up his sit-up count to 300 instead of 200.

            The fact that Harry had gym with him just made it worse. He loved having a class with him, but why it had to be that one, Louis had no idea except for his theory that the higher powers hated him deeply.

            Harry was pretty bad at gym too, to be honest, but he at least didn’t almost faint every day and he looked good. Still, Harry always kept pace with Louis during laps and made sure he was on Louis’s team every day, even if he wasn’t supposed to be. That was nice, even though Louis felt terrible for holding him back, which Jordan, the mysterious blonde dude from Zayn’s party, liked to use to his advantage.

            Louis had found out that Jordan and Harry had been together earlier in the year, but Jordan broke up with him after Harry refused to give him his virginity on their two month anniversary. Louis also found out that Jordan was the reason Zayn had been suspended that year, as Zayn was extremely protective of his friends and decided Jordan deserved to be beaten up for the break up. (Louis agreed.)

            As he should, Jordan started to regret breaking up with Harry and tried to get him back, but Harry always turned him down (claiming, to Louis, that it was because he knew he’d one day get the courage to ask him out.) When Louis asked about the party, Harry explained that Jordan had crashed it, and Harry was simply acting like he enjoyed his company so Zayn may spare him if he’d found out he was there. Louis believed him and he felt a lot better about the whole thing, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a bit insecure every time Jordan dashed past them during laps, turning to smirk at Harry as he did so, or when the annoying blonde would score a perfect basket or goal and asked Harry if he would like him to show him a few pointers. Harry would only reply with an eye roll, but still. Louis didn’t need the fact that Harry’s ex-boyfriend was much better looking, a bit more talented and a lot fitter than him to be shoved in his face.

            Football day in gym was the worst. Louis used to be good at football, but he just didn’t have the energy to kick the ball very far or hard anymore, and if he moved too fast while trying to stop a goal, his head would spin and he would find himself almost on the floor. Jordan, of course, was a football super star.

            Tuesdays were football days and on this particular Tuesday, Louis made a vow to be better than Jordan, just this once. Since gym was right after lunch, Louis decided that he would probably be a little quicker if he didn’t have so many calories weighing him down. He still ate lunch, but stopped after four grapes, having already deciding that morning to ditch the peanut butter, and told Harry and the other boys that he just _honestly_ wasn’t that hungry and would eat more after gym.

            Louis didn’t understand, then, how he felt even worse that day, barely even able to get through their warm-up stretches.

            Harry was on Louis’s team that day, legitimately, and Jordan on the opposing team. Louis was only the goalie, but that was okay because, while he may not get to outshine Jordan with his amazing footwork, he could at least find joy in blocking every single one of his goals, which, somehow, he did. It was hard because Jordan seemed just as determined to get a goal past Louis as Louis was to stop him, and he had to move twice as fast and contort his body in a hundred different ways to stop them, but he did. Harry cheered for him each time, fueling him. Near the end, though, that fuel started to run out and that familiar fuzzy feeling started to settle in his head, causing him to lean against the goal post for support. He didn’t really think he was being that obvious until the coach blew his whistle and shouted, “Tomlinson! You still with us?”

            Before Louis could even reply that yes, he was fine, something grazed the side of his head and he felt himself hit the ground while there were gasps and a couple screams, the coach shouting louder then, “Perkins! Didn’t you hear my whistle?!”

            “Sorry, sir,” Jordan replied, and Louis didn’t really know what happened with the room around him dark and the voices muffled, but he doubted Jordan was sorry for anything he did ever, besides losing Harry.

            “Lou!” a frantic voice close to him called out, and Louis thought someone was touching him, but he wasn’t sure.

            “Louis! Can you hear me?”

            “Someone page head office and have a nurse sent down here,” coach ordered, and, what? Why did they need a nurse? Louis decided he best open his eyes and find out.

            It took a good amount of effort, but when Louis did blink open his eyes, he was looking right into Harry’s wide, worried ones and it only took a moment for him to realize that Harry was holding his weak, limp body up.

            “Lou,” Harry sighed in relief as coach ran over. “Are you okay? How’s your head?”

            “Fine, Harry,” Louis said, voice groggy and mouth dry like he’d been asleep all night. “Don’t need a nurse.”

            “You got hit in the head with a ball, Lou.”

            “Barely.”

            “You passed out.”

            “Not all the way. Could still hear you.”

            “Can you stand?” coach asked. Louis wasn’t sure, but nodded anyway, and Harry helped him up slowly, standing close so Louis could still lean on him.

            “Close your eyes and touch your nose,” coach instructed.

            “Why?” Louis asked. “I’m not drunk.”

            “It’s to make sure you don’t have a concussion,” coach told him with a twitch of his lip, like he wanted to smile. Louis didn’t know what was so funny, and thought the whole thing was stupid, really, but he did what he was told anyway.

            “Good,” coach approved, but the nurse arrived and still insisted on checking pupil dilation, making a scene while everyone just stared at Louis, which was rather uncomfortable. His dilation turned out fine and he was given the okay to stay in class and sit the rest of the game if he promised he wasn’t in pain. He was also forced to drink some super sugary juice, which made him want to throw up, but he wasn’t going to say that when they would whisk him to the hospital if he said anything was out of the ordinary.

            Jordan was benched too, and also forced to give Louis an apology that was so obviously insincere, but whatever. Harry was moved to the goalie position, but was too distracted with looking over at his boyfriend to stop many goals. Louis clapped for him anyway.

            After a couple minutes, Jordan slid down the bench, closer to Louis, smiling innocently when coach gave him a warning look.

            “Good game, Tommo,” he said when coach had looked away.

            “Thanks…,” Louis said, fidgeting uncomfortably.

            “Too bad I won in the end,” Jordan continued. “I always win in the end.”

            “You’re not talking about football now, are you?” Louis guessed.

            “You tell me.”

            “Harry isn’t a game, you know,” Louis said, wishing he had enough strength to put more force into his words.

            “No, but you are.”

            “What are you talking about?”

            “Harry is just playing hard to get with me. He’s always done that. It’s pretty hot, to be honest.”

            Taking a page from Harry’s book, Louis simply rolled his eyes.

             “He’s using you to try to get back at me, Louis, but it will be me in the end, and I just wanted to give you a bit of fair warning so you’re not too heartbroken in the end.”

            Coach blew his whistle, signaling everyone to clean up and go change, which was good, because it saved Louis from having to come up with another reply, and he smiled as Harry came jogging to him.

            “Are you good?” he asked once he’d come to a stop in front of Louis.

            “Yes, I’m alright,” Louis said, accepting the hand Harry offered and beginning the walk to the locker room, Jordan following close behind.

            Since Louis didn’t ever sweat, for whatever reason, it wasn’t really necessary for him to shower off, and he went into a stall to change, as usual. As he did, the self-hatred started to sink in again. He couldn’t even make it through one game and, as a result, he’d worried Harry, lost against Jordan and showed the entire gym class just how weak and pathetic he was.

            Whenever Louis changed, he avoided touching his body at all costs, but, as he pulled up his jeans and went to button them, his knuckle pressed against the fattest part of his stomach; huge even though he had been sucking in. Louis cringed. He was disgusting. He’d been letting himself overindulge and now he’d turned into this…blob again. He’d been trying to tell himself that it was fine because he’d managed to stay at or below his goal weight, but he should have known that didn’t mean anything. Scales lied. It told him he was underweight so that he would slack and turn into a gross mess again, and it worked. Its lies worked. Harrys’ lies worked. Louis had almost believed that the other guy thought at least part of him was beautiful, but he didn’t. There was no way anyone could think anything about Louis was beautiful because he was the farthest thing from it. Even ‘decent looking’ was unattainable by this point.

            “Lou?”

            Harry’s worried voice was followed by a knock on the stall door, making Louis jump. He would usually be out before Harry was done showering, waiting for his boyfriend on the bench closest to the showers, and he suddenly wasn’t sure how long he’d been there in the stall, staring and picking at his fat in disgust.

            “The bell is about to ring,” Harry continued. “Are you okay?”

            “Yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” Louis said, voice cracking and betraying him. “You can go on without me.”

            “Well, are you almost done?”

            “Yeah, it’s just, I …I don’t really feel that good.”

            Louis couldn’t really think of anything else to say, and, besides, it was the truth; the juice he’d drank just a bit ago begging to be let out.

            “Can I come in?” Harry asked.

            “Harry, I don’t want you in here if I’m going to throw up,” Louis replied, forcing out a small laugh. “That’s gross.”

            “I don’t care.”

            “Go to class. I’ll be fine.”

            “…Are you _positive_ the ball didn’t hit your head?”

            “It touched it, but barely. I don’t have a concussion. I was feeling off at lunch, but just thought it would pass.”

            The bell rang. Harry sighed.

            “Let me help you to the nurse, yeah?”

            “I think it’s best if I stay here for now, but go on. You’re going to be late.”

            “Louis, can I please just come in?”

            “No. Please go.”

            “Alright. I love you.”

            Louis’s heart swelled and he smiled the same way it/he did every time Harry said those words.

            “I love you too, Curly.”

            Though he could tell Harry hesitated, Louis heard the older boy’s footsteps as he walked away. Louis loved him, he really did, but as happy as Harry could make him, he still couldn’t make him love himself, so when Louis’s smile faded, he sunk to the ground and purged into the toilet, doing so quietly so no one would hear if they happened to walk in. The juice came back up quickly, but Louis kept working, not satisfied enough at just that. He threw up probably his lunch after that, some water next, then some bile and finally blood, which actually startled him a bit. He hadn’t seen blood in a while.

            _Because you haven’t been empty for a while, you disgusting lard._

Though it felt like someone was stabbing him in the stomach over and over with a knife, Louis flushed the toilet and headed to class, arriving just a couple minutes late. He figured he was in trouble, but when she saw him, the teacher asked if he felt alright and then said to let her know if he needed anything. Louis was glad he hadn’t caught a glimpse of his reflection recently.

            _Did you go home?_ Harry text Louis a few minutes after he’d taken his seat.

            _No,_ he replied back.

            _Are you ok?_

_No._

_Go home babe X_

_Mum can’t leave work_

            _I bet mine would come get you_

_That’s ok. I’ll survive probably_

It took a couple minutes for Harry to reply then, but when he did, he asked, _You in class?_

_Yeah_

_Mum is on her way_

_She doesn’t have to_

_She knows. I’ll see you after school. Feel better. Love you._

It didn’t take long at all before Louis was being buzzed out of class, and Anne wrapped him in a tight sideways hug once he’d climbed into her car.

            “Thanks for doing this,” Louis told her. “You really didn’t have to.”

            “It’s really no problem, sweetie,” she replied simply but kindly, and she drove away after telling Louis he could adjust the heat or air conditioning as he wished.

            “Wait, this isn’t how you get to my place,” Louis commented a few minutes later as he stopped daydreaming and realized he had no idea where they were heading.

            “We’re going to ours,” Anne explained. “I’m not leaving you home alone when you’re sick.”       

            “Oh, it’s okay,” Louis assured her. “I’ll be fine. It happens all the time.”

            He didn’t mean anything by it, but Anne pursed her lips, eyes focusing more intently on the road in front of her.

            “Well, it’s not happening today,” she replied, voice calm but final.

            The first thing the woman did when they had arrived at her house was take his temperature, seeming perplexed when it came out as normal.

            “Could just be something I ate,” Louis suggested because, really, it was.

            “Could be,” she agreed.

            “Do you care if I go to the bathroom, please?”

            “Of course not. You know where it is, dear.”

            It didn’t take Louis long at all in the bathroom, but by the time he got out, Anne had placed a couple of pillows and blankets on the couch, along with the TV remote, a cup of ginger ale on a TV tray next to where he would be laying and, of course, a handy little bucket close as well.

            “You _really_ didn’t have to do this,” Louis said once again. Anne pulled him into another hug before asking if he needed or wanted anything else, which he didn’t.

            Louis ended up falling asleep there on the couch, one of Harry’s favorite movies playing on the television, and when he woke up, the older boy was home, snuggling Louis.

            “What are you doing? You’re going to get sick,” he said, voice even worse than it had been earlier.

            “Mum said it was something you ate,” Harry said, giving the back of Louis’s head a kiss.

            “Maybe.”

            “Well, we’ve been kissing, so if you’re _sick_ sick, I’m already going to get sick anyway.”

            Louis hummed noncommittally and rolled over to face Harry, knowing deep down that he didn’t have anything contagious. Harry gave his forehead a kiss next.

            “Are you warm enough?” he asked the younger boy.

            “Mhm,” Louis assured him.

            “Are you _too_ warm?”

            “Mm-mm.”

            “Good.”

            The two stayed like that for a couple hours, Louis falling in and out of sleep until Anne made dinner; just soup for all of them. Louis wanted to go throw that up and knew he could get away with it, but didn’t really want Anne and Harry to hear him throwing up in their bathroom. He had been humiliated quite enough for one day.

            After dinner, Louis called his mom to make sure she was home before Anne took him back, as Anne had insisted. There was no answer, but Louis told the woman she could take him home anyway, as his mother should be there by now and was probably just sleeping, but Anne refused.

            “I don’t want to be a bother,” Louis insisted. “I was only sick once, and I’m feeling much better now.”

            “You are _not_ a bother,” the woman said. “Call your mum back, please, and if she doesn’t answer, leave a message and tell her where you’ll be for the night.”

            “It’s pointless to argue,” Harry told Louis with a smile. “Besides, if you stay, we can cuddle and I can keep you warm all night. Sometimes I swear you’re made of ice; beautifully sculpted ice, but ice all the same.”

            Giving his boyfriend a sheepish smile, Louis nodded and hit his mom’s contact information again. She didn’t answer, so he left a message and hung up, turning back to a seemingly smug Anne and Harry.

            “Wonderful,” Anne spoke. “Louis, you are more than welcome to sleep in Harry’s room with him if you wish. You boy know I trust you to be smart, and I would never make anyone sleep on that couch all night.”

            “I think the couch is comfortable, honestly,” Louis said. “I’m fine.”

            “Are you positive?”

            “Yeah, definitely.”

            “Perfect,” Harry spoke then. “I’ll just go get my pillows then.”

            “You don’t have to stay down here with me,” Louis told the other boy, then adding, “I mean, unless you want to.”

            “Of course I want to. Warm, all night cuddles, remember?”

            “I couldn’t forget.” Louis smiled.

 

            After washing up (Harry gave Louis a spare toothbrush, setting it next to his in the toothbrush holder when Louis was done and smiling like a sap), the two lay down on the couch, shutting off the lights and television, leaving the only noises to be the occasional homey creak and their relaxed breaths. Harry had his arms wrapped tightly around Louis, rubbing the other’s arms or giving the back of his neck a kiss when he sensed him tensing up. Louis was completely okay with that, because the touches did calm him down. If they could stay like that forever, Louis would be more than ecstatic.

            The sleepier Harry got, though, the farther down his hold on Louis went, resting for a while on Louis’s stomach, which he made sure to suck in immediately, and then to his waist.

            “Go to sleep,” Harry said groggily, moving his hands further down on Louis’s waist and then down more to rub those familiar comforting circles on his thigh. Even though, logically, Louis knew Harry couldn’t feel the marks there, as he was wearing a pair of Harry’s sweats, he sucked in a breath, leg twitching as nervous energy filled the boy.

            “What’s wrong?” Harry asked, removing his hands immediately. Louis wanted to kick himelf.

            “Nothing,” the younger boy answered, turning to nuzzle against Harry’s chest. “It’s nothing.”

            “I wasn’t…oh god, you don’t think I was trying to get something started, do you? Because I would never do that. I mean, not when you’re a bit ill and on the couch in my mum’s living room, and certainly not before making sure it was something you wanted. I‘m really sorry. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

            “No, Harry, it’s okay,” Louis assured him. “I didn’t think you were trying to do…that.”

            _Why would you ever want to do that with me?_

            “Oh…Then what is it? Did I hurt you?”

            “No, of course not.”

            “What’s wrong then, Lou?”

            “It’s nothing.”

            “Lou, please.”

            “It’s just that my thighs are one of my sensitive spots.”

            It wasn’t a lie at all. It just wasn’t the whole truth.

            “Sensitive spots?” Harry asked. “Like…ticklish?”

            “Not exactly,” Louis said with a little laugh. Harry was just so cute.

            “I’m sorry, babe, I’m trying to understand, but I just can’t,” Harry said then, and to Louis’s horror, he sounded on the verge of tears.

            “No, no, no, Haz, it’s okay. I don’t expect you to understand. What I meant was…it’s one of my problem areas; one of the parts that makes me the most insecure.”

            “Oh. Well, I’m still sorry. I didn’t know.”

            “I know you didn’t. It’s fine. Really. Stop worrying”

            “Okay.”

            About a minute of silence passed before Harry spoke again.

            “Is your stomach one of your sensitive spots too?”

            “Yes.”

            “Where else?”

            “I’m insecure about everything, but those are the biggest spots.” 

            “Okay. I know you won’t believe me, and I know it won’t change anything, but there isn’t anything wrong with your stomach, thighs or anything else.”

            “I love you.”

            “I love you too.”

            “Can we just sleep now?”

            “Of course. Good night, boo,”

            “Good night, pumpkin.”

            “…Lou…you’re going to kill me, but one more thing.”

            “Yes, Haz?”

            “How’s your head? People with concussions are supposed to be woken up every couple of hours, you know, so-”

            “Go to sleep, Harry.”

            “Okay.”

 

            The next morning, Louis finally got ahold of his mom, so Anne dropped him off at home before taking Harry to school. The older boy promised he would be over as soon as it was let out. Louis promised he would be waiting.

            “Lou!” Kate called as soon as her son had entered, hurrying into the room to give him a hug and feel his forehead. “I’m so sorry, baby. I was out with one of my friends and I lost track of time…”

            “It’s okay, mum,” Louis said. “Everything’s okay. I’m going to go back to bed, though, okay?”

            “Of course. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be here until one.”

            As promised, Harry came to Louis’s place directly after school and also as promised, Louis was waiting for him, sitting on the front step.

            “Hey, gorgeous,” Harry greeted Louis. “How are you feeling?”

            “I haven’t hurled, if that’s what you’re asking,” Louis replied, standing to place a shy kiss on Harry’s lips. Louis was rarely ever the first one to make a move of any kind.

            “Well, that’s good, but it doesn’t necessarily mean you feel well. How is everything?”

            “Everything is just fine.”

            “Wonderful. Have you eaten anything today?”

            Louis was going to lie, but he knew Harry was going to make him eat eventually anyway, so he didn’t really see the point.

            “No.”

            Surprisingly, Harry didn’t comment on that, at least not directly.

            “Can we go in?” he asked. Louis nodded, leading him inside and then to his bedroom. As soon as they were in, Harry gave Louis another kiss before gently flipping over Louis’s arms and leaving soft kisses on all of the scarred areas.

            “What are you doing?” Louis asked, trying to steal his arm back, but Harry’s grip on it was too firm.

            “Anywhere else, Louis?” Harry asked instead of replying to Louis’s question.

            “What are you talking about?”

            “Are there anymore scars anywhere?”

            “Well, there’s this one smaller one on my forehead where I fell off my bike-”

            “You know that’s not what I meant.”

            “Why would you think that, Harry?”

            “The fact that you haven’t said ‘no’ gives a good indication.”

            “Well, then, no, I do not.”

            “Your thighs?”

            “What about my thighs?”

            “Are there scars on your thighs?”

            “Harry, what on Earth are you-”

            “Can I see?”

            “No!”

            “Why not?”

            “They’re huge and disgusting. I would rather you not vomit on my carpet, if that is at all preventable, so I think I will keep my thunder thighs hidden.”

            “You don’t have thunder thighs, but fine. But how many?”

            “Scars? None.”

            “More or less than your arms?”

            “Less, since there are none.”

            “Mmm, okay, fine.”

            “Thank you.”

            “Can we lie down, please? I’m a bit tired, for some reason.”

            “Uh-oh. Are _you_ feeling okay, Haz?”                                                                                    

            “I’m fine. Just sleepy.”

            “Okay.”

            Louis led Harry to the bed, but they had only been still for a couple minutes before Harry was up, suddenly straddling Louis, of course making sure to put barely any weight on him.

            “Um…are you trying something _now?_ Because if the only reason is to check my thighs, you can forget it.”

           “Not trying anything,” Harry said, pulling a pen magically from out of his rear (or, probably, from his back pocket, but still… _why_?). After making sure the pen worked using his own skin, Harry began drawing on Louis’s more scarred wrist. 

         “What are you doing?” Louis asked for what he felt was the millionth time.

          “Giving you a tattoo,” Harry answered, keeping his entire focus on his work. Louis was still confused, but went along with it.

          “A broken rope,” Louis observed once Harry had finished. “You think I’m broken?”

          “Not at all,” Harry replied, beginning to draw on his own arm then, the one opposite of where Louis’s tattoo was.

         “What else does a broken rope symbolize?” Louis questioned.

          “It symbolizes part of a whole. The rope can exist by itself, but it needs another something to help hold it together and keep it as strong as it can be.”

          “Like what? More rope?”

         “Not more rope, no.”

        “Then what?”

       “An anchor.”

        Re-angling his body, Louis could see the beginnings of what appeared to be an anchor on Harry’s arm, but he was still confused.

        “But I still don’t understand,” he voiced. “The rope is broken. The anchor can’t fix it. The rope will just slip right through.”

       “Not exactly,” Harry disagreed gently. “The anchor gives the rope something to tie itself around. The frayed ends could just be tied around each other, of course, but then what is it doing? It’s still all by itself, and once rope is tied, it’s not so easy to untie. It could go through life alone or it can be bound to something else; something that needs it as well.”

       “But what if the rope breaks again?”

       “It can always be tied back up.”

        “Only so many times. Eventually there’s nothing left.”

        “And that’s when the anchor falls into the depths of the ocean, its work done.”

        “But there’s always more rope.”

        “Yes, but the anchor has already sunk. Its work is done.”

        “This has turned into a very depressing story.”

        “No it hasn’t. It’s beautiful, because they find their purpose with each other and when it’s over for one, the other isn’t forced to go on without it. They begin their journey together and they end it together as well.”

        Harry finished his tattoo as he finished his story and Louis stayed silent, admiring the work.

        “You’re really talented, Harry.”

        “Every talent needs an inspiration,” Harry said, kissing Louis’s lips again. “You’re not a broken rope, Louis, just frayed. Can I be your anchor?”

        “You can,” Louis agreed, kissing Harry back. “And, as your rope, I’ll try not to come apart too many times.”

 

_Dear diary,_

_I know it’s a hard journey_

_I know it’s going to be long and full of pain_

_But I know I’ll get through_

_Because he showed me that I’m not actually broken_

_Just a little frayed_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok! So, I was going to wait to post this part when I post the first chapter of part 2 for this same story/series so it would be easier to find, but the next few weeks are going to be really busy for me and I don't know when that will be done. I ended this where I think most of the big stuff was tied up, so you don't have to read part two if you don't want to, but if you do, It's going to be called "Living for Love" and it will be posted as soon as I can possibly post it :)
> 
> Also...wow. I'm sorry if the rope/anchor part made no sense. It made sense while I was writing it in my head, at least but I just got done working a 13 hour shift so maybe I should not be posting this yet XD Hopefully I didn't screw up too bad.
> 
> I did not mean to channel "Little Things" in the earlier part, but oh well. 
> 
> Lastly, I know this story may have been triggering for some. I also know that I have already said anyone who wants to talk to get a hold of me through my e-mail, which can be found on my profile. I hope you all have family and friends you can talk to, but I know some people don't and sometimes it's just easier to talk to a stranger that you aren't face-to-face with anyway. Believe me, I won't judge at all. Louis in this fic was basically me a few years ago, and while a lot has gone into recovering, talking can honestly help. So that is that. Thank you for all of the support I've gotten from this fic and I hope you like part two as well if you decide to read it :)

**Author's Note:**

> Also, I would just like to add that any negative thoughts Louis has of himself come from a disordered mind. I do not think these things about him. I think Louis is beautiful and fine just the way he is :) So don't chop my head off, please.


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